THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


FROM  THE  LIBRARY  OF 
FRANK  J.  KLINGBERG 


•    6  / 


A  LITERARY  SOURCE-BOOK 


OF  THE 


RENAISSANCE 


'BY 

MERRICK  WHITCOMB,  PH.  D., 
Professor  of  History t  University  of  Cincinnati. 


SECOND  EDITION 
WITH  SELECT  BIBLIOGRAPHY 


DEPARTMENT  OF  HISTORY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  PENNSYLVANIA 

PHILADELPHIA,  PA. 

1903 
Sold  by :  Longmans,  Green  &  Co.,  91-93  Fifth  Avenue,  New  York. 


COPYRIGHT,  1903, 
BT 

MERRICK  WHITCOMB. 


PREFATORY  NOTE. 


THE  Renaissance  is  a  period  of  especial  interest  for  the  stu- 
dent of  history.  In  it  are  found  the  beginnings  of  modern 
times.  A  fresh  impulse  sweeps  across  the  Italian  lands  and 
penetrates  beyond  the  Alps  to  the  nations  of  later  development, 
stirring  the  Christian  world  to  a  recognition  of  the  possibilities 
of  earthly  life. 

Studied  in  the  bare  inventories  of  dates  and  dynasties  this 
period  has  little  meaning.  The  great  achievements  of  the 
time  are  literary;  the  vanguard  of  progress  won  its  victories 
with  the  pen  rather  than  with  the  sword.  With  such  condi- 
tions the  study  of  the  Renaissance  requires  a  special  apparatus. 
No  mere  catalogue  of  names,  even  when  reinforced  with  bio- 
graphical details,  is  sufficient  to  afford  a  lasting  impression  of 
the  Petrarchs  and  the  Poggios  of  the  age.  It  is  only  by  imme- 
diate contact  with  their  utterances  that  these  personalities  are 
made  a  part  of  our  permanent  intellectual  capital. 

It  is  with  this  purpose  in  view  that  the  following  extracts 
have  been  arranged.  Their  highest  utility  for  the  student  is  to 
constitute  an  appendix  to  the  comprehensive  and  valuable 
treatises  of  Symonds  and  of  Burckhardt.  The  German  human- 
istic period,  although  possessing  an  interest  peculiarly  its  own, 
has  not  yet  been  dignified  with  especial  treatment.*  It  has 
been  thought  worth  the  while,  therefore,  to  preface  the  German 
Source-Book  with  a  brief  introduction  on  the  general  conditions 
of  German  intellectual  life  in  the  half  century  preceding  the 
Reformation. 

*  Such  treatment  is  at  least  not  available  for  the  English-reading  pub- 
lic. The  scholarly  work  of  Ludwig  Geiger,  Renaissance  und  ffuman- 
ismus  in  Italien  und  Deutschland,  lacks  the  fluent  style  that  might  give 
it  an  international  acceptance  such  as  has  been  accorded  to  the  work  of 
Burckhardt 

(iii) 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


PART  I.    THE  ITALIAN  RENAISSANCE. 

PACK 

1.  List  of  Books  on  the  Italian  Renaissance     ......  7 

2.  DANTE  ALIGHIERI  :  Extract  from  De  Monarchia  .   .   .  n 

3.  FRANCESCO  PETRARCHA:  From  Epistolavarice,  No.  25.  14 

4.  GIOVANNI  BOCCACCIO:  Introduction  to  the  Decameron; 

Novels  II  and  III 21 

5.  FRANCO  SACCHETTI:  Novels  CXIV,  CXV,  CXXI  and 

CCXVI 30 

6.  POGGIO  BRACCIOLINI  :  Extracts  from  the  Facelia ;  De- 

scription of  the  Death  of  Jerome  of  Prague     ....    38 

7.  LEON   BATTISTA  ALBERTI  :  Extract  from  //  Governo 

della  Famiglia 51 

8.  AENEAS  SYLVIUS:  Extract  from  De  Liberorum  Edu- 

catione 59 

9.  PLATINA  :  Extracts  from  the  Lives  of  the  Popes  ...    66 

10.  VESPASIANO  DA  BISTICCI  :  Extracts  from  the  Vite  .   .    73 

11.  LORENZO  DE' MEDICI  :  Letter  to  his  son  Giovanni  .    .    82 

12.  NICOL&  MACHIAVELU  :  Extracts  from  the  Prince    .    .    86 

13.  BAI.DASSARECASTIGLIONE:  Extracts  from  the  Courtier.    93 

14.  MATTEO  BANDELI.O  :  Novels  VI  and  XIII 103 

15.  BENVENUTO  CEUJNI  :  Extracts  from  the  Autobiog- 

raphy  108 

(v) 


vi  TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 

PART  II.   THE  GERMAN  RENAISSANCE. 

1.  List  of  Books  on  the  German  Renaissance 128 

2.  The  Renaissance  in  Germany 129 

3.  RUDOLF  AGRICOLA  :  Letter  to  Barbirianus 130 

4.  JACOB  WIMPHELING  :  Extracts  from  Isidoneus,  Adoles- 

centia  and  Agatharchia 142 

5.  SEBASTIAN  BRANT  :  Extracts  from  the  Narrenschiff  .  1 55 

6.  MAXIMILIAN  I :  Extracts  from  the  Weisskunig     .    .    .157 

7.  DESIDERIUS  ERASMUS  :  Two  Colloquies 163 

8.  ULRICH  VON  HUTTEN  :  Extract  from  Inspidentes  .    .    .180 

9.  LETTERS  OF  OBSCURE  MEN  (Seven  letters) 185 

10.  JOHANNES  BUTZBACH  :  Extracts  from  Hodoporicon  .    .199 

11.  THOMAS  PLATTER  :  Extract  from  the  Autobiography.  220 


LIST  OF  BOOKS  ON  THE  IT8LIAN  RENJ1SS5NCE. 


BIBLIOGRAPHIES : 

Schaff,  Philip:  The  Renaissance.  Putnam,  1891.  $1.50.  This  little 
book  of  132  pages  is  now,  unfortunately,  out  of  print.  It  takes  up  the 
subject  of  the  Renaissance  both  in  Italy  and  in  Germany.  Chapter  I.  is 
devoted  to  the  "  Literature  of  the  Renaissance  "  (pp.  3-6).  Each  of  the 
29  chapters  following  is  prefaced  with  a  special  bibliography.  Wide 
margins  for  additional  notation. 

Cambridge  Modern  History  (noted  below).  Extensive  bibliographies, 
topically  arranged,  are  to  be  found  in  Vol.  I.,  The  Renaissance,  pp. 
693-792- 

SETS: 

We  now  possess,  in  a  more  or  less  complete  form,  three  great  sets 
covering  extensive  periods  of  European  history.  These  are,  in  order  ofi' 
publication : 

1.  The  "Oncken"  Series:   Allgemeine  Geschichte  in  Einzeldarstel'- 
lungen.     Berlin,  1880,  ff.     The  volume  on  the  Renaissance  is  by  Geiger, 
Ludwig :  Renaissance  und  Humanismus  in  Italien  und  Deutschland. 
1882.     This  work  is  considered  an  excellent  authority.     The  volume  is- 
richly  illustrated  with  reproductions  of  contemporary  paintings  and  other' 
works  of  art.     Part  I.  deals  with  Italy.     The  contents  are  as  follows  •:• 
Chapters   1-16,   Introduction — Dante — Petrarch — Boccaccio — Contempo- 
raries and  successors  of  Petrarch  and  Boccaccio — Cosimo  de  Medici — 
Founding  of  the  Papal  Maecenat — Aeneas  Sylvius  Piccolomini — Renais-- 
sance  in  the  Lesser  Italian  States — Lorenzo  de'  Medici — Urbino — Ferrara 
— Naples— Venice — Leo  X. — Decline  of  the  Italian  Renaissance.     Liter-- 
arv  Notes  (bibliog.)  in  Part  I.,  pp.  564-573. 

2.  Lavisse  et  Rambaud :  Histoire  Gtnlrale.     12  vols.     Paris.     Colin, 
1893,  ff.     Price,  unbound,  12  francs  per  volume.     Volumes  III.  and  IV. 
contain  material  on  the  Renaissance.    The  work  is  a  collaboration.    Each- 
contribution  (or  chapter)  is  followed  by  valuable  bibliographical  notes. 
The  following  chapters  are  of  most  importance  for  our  purpose:  Vol.  III., 
Formation  des  grands  Hats.     Chap.  10,  Italy;  Republics  and  Tyrranies, 
by  Pietro  Orsi;  Chap,  n,  The  Renaissance  in  Italy,  by  A.  Berthelot 
(i.  General  Characteristics — 2.  Political  Conditions;  the  Maecenats — 3^ 

(7) 


8  SOURCE-BOOK  OF  THE  ITALIAN  RENAISSANCE. 

Architecture,  Sculpture  and  Painting).  Vol.  IV.,  Renaissance  et  Rtforme. 
Chap.  I,  Italy  and  the  Renaissance,  by  E.  Gebhart  (i.  General  Remarks 
on  Italy  and  the  Renaissance — 2.  The  Italian  States— 3.  Manners  and 
Customs);  Chap.  2,  Wars  of  Italy,  I495-"5C<:,  by  E.  Gebhart;  Chap.  3, 
Wars  of  Italy,  1515-1559,  by  H.  Gaillard;  Chap.  7,  Art  in  Europe,  by 
Michel  and  Lavoix;  Chap.  8,  The  Sciences  in  Europe  by  T.  Tannery. 

3.  Ward,  A.  W..  and  others,  editors :  The  Cambridge  Modem  History, 
Macmillan,  1902,  ff.  This  set  is  planned  to  cover  in  a  dozen  volumes  the 
period  of  modern  history.  Vol  I.,  issued  in  1902,  is  called  The  Renais- 
sance, pp  807.  $3  75.  The  work  is  a  collaboration,  with  19  contribu- 
tions (chapters).  Extensive,  classified  bibliographies,  a  special  list  for 
each  chapter,  are  placed  together  at  the  end  of  the  volume,  pp.  693-792. 
The  work  is  scholarly,  with,  perhaps,  an  over-emphasis  on  the  political 
side,  as  compared  with  the  sets  above  cited.  The  contents  are  as  fol- 
lows: Introductory  Note  (Creighton) — Age  of  Discovery  (Payne)— The 
New  World  (Payne) — The  Ottoman  Conquest  (Bury) — Italy  and  her 
Invaders  (Leathes) — Florence:  Savonarola  (Armstrong)— Florence:  Ma- 
chiavelli  (Burd)— Rome  and  the  Temporal  Tower  (Garnett) — Venice 
(Brown)— Germany  and  the  Empire  (Tout) — Hungary  and  the  Slavonic 
Kingdoms  (Reich) — The  Catholic  Kings  (Clarke) -France  (Leathes) — 
The  Netherlands  (Ward) — The  Early  Tudors  (Gairdner)— Economic 
Changes  (Cunningham) — The  Classical  Renaissance  (Jebb) — The  Chri.- 
tian  Renaissance  (James)— Catholic  Europe  (Barry) — The  Eve  of  the 
Reformation  (H.  C.  Lea). 

WORKS  ON  THE  ITALIAN  RENAISSANCE: 

Sytnonds,  John  Addington  :  The  Renaissance  in  Italy.  Part  T.  The 
Age  of  the  Despots.  Holt,  Scribner.  $2.00.  Pp.644.  Contents:  Chap.  I, 
The  Spirit  of  the  Renaissance — 2,  Italian  History  (Middle  Ages  to  Renais- 
sance)—3,  The  Age  of  the  Despots— 4,  The  Republics  (Genoa,  Venice, 
Florence)— 5,  The  Florentine  Historians — 6,  "The  Prince"  of  Machi- 
avelli — 7,  The  Popes  of  the  Renaissance — 8,  The  Church  and  Morality — 
9,  Savonarola — 10,  Charles  VIII.  Appendices;  no  bibliography;  meagre 
references  to  sources.  Part  II.  The  Revival  of  Learning.  Pp.  546. 
Holt,  Scribner.  $2.00.  Contents:  Chap,  i,  The  Men  of  the  Renaissance 
— 2,  First  Period  of  Humanism — 3,  First  Period  of  Humanism  (com.) — 
4,  Second  Period  of  Humanis-m — 5,  Second  Period  of  Humanism  (cont.) 
— 6,  Third  Period  of  Humanism— 7,  Fourth  Period  of  Humanism.  Sytn- 
onds' style  is  much  appreciated,  and  his  volumes  have  had  more  to  do 
with  creating  interest  in  the  subject  of  the  Renaissance  than  any  other 
work.  Part  II.  is  a  very  good  class-book,  on  account  of  its  systematic 
chronological  arrangement. 

Sytnonds,  J.  A.:  A  Short  History  of  the  Renaissance,  prepared  from 
the  volumes  of  Symouds  by  A.  Pearson.  Holt.  $1.75.  Not  important. 


LIST  OP  BOOKS.  9 

Burckhardt,  Jacob:  The  Civilization  of  the  Renaissance  in  Italy. 
Mactuillan.  $4.00.  Pp.  559.  Contents :  Part  I.,  The  State  as  a  Work 
of  Art  (Despots,  Republics,  Papacy,  Foreign  Policy  of  the  Italian  States) 
— II.,  The  Development  of  the  Individual  (Modern  Idea  of  Fame,  Mod- 
ern Wit  and  Satire) — III.,  The  Revival  of  Antiquity  (Rome.  Old  Authors, 
Universities  and  Schools,  Reproduction  of  Antiquity,  General  Latiniza- 
tion  of  Culture) — IV.,  The  Discovery  of  the  World  and  Man  (Travels, 
Natural  Science,  Natural  Beauty,  Discovery  of  Man,  Biography,  Life  in 
Movement) — V.,  Society  and  Festivals  (Social  Classes,  Refinement  of 
Life,  Higher  Form  of  Society,  Position  of  Women,  Domestic  Economy) 
— VI.,  Morality  and  Religion  (Moralitv,  Religion  in  Daily  Life,  Religion 
and  the  Spirit  of  the  Renaissance,  General  Disintegration  of  Belief). 
This  work,  translated  from  the  German  of  Burckhardt.  for  many  years 
professor  in  the  University  of  Basel,  is  of  the  highest  value  and  interest. 
Topical  in  its  arrangement,  it  admirably  supplements  the  chronological 
relation  of  Sym  nds. 

Van  Dyke,  Paul :  The  j4ge  of  the  Renascence.  Pp.  397.  Scribner. 
$2  oo  (one  of  the  "Ten  Epochs  of  Church  History  "  Series).  Contents: 
Period  I.,  From  the  Return  from  Avignon  to  the  Accession  of  Nicholas 
V.,  1377-1447 — II.,  From  the  Accession  of  the  First  Humanist  Pope  to 
the  French  Invasion  of  Italy,  1447-1494—11!  ,  From  the  French  Invasion 
to  the  Sack  of  Rome,  1494-1527.  Appendices;  List  of  Popes  and  An- 
tiquities; List  of  Humanists  Mentioned.  Interesting  and  scholarly  nar- 
tative.  The  Renaissance  and  the  Reformation  are  treated  together  and 
inextricably  interwoven. 

Villari,  Pasquale:  The  Life  and  Times  of  Niccofo  Machiavelli.  One 
volume  edition.  Fisher  Unwin,  London,  1898.  Illustrated.  Contents 
(chapters  of  general  interest  are  mentioned):  Part  I.,  pp.  1-511;  Intro- 
duction, pp.  1-203  (this  is  one  of  the  best  general  presentations  of  the 
subject  of  the  Italian  Renaissance  that  has  been  written) — i,  The  Renais- 
sance— 2,  Principal  Italian  States — 3,  Literature — 4,  Political  Condition 
of  Italy  at  the  end  of  the  Fifteenth  Century— 9,  The  Fine  Arts.  Part  II., 
pp.  1-547.  Chapter?  2  and  5,  "The  Prince  " — 6,  Leo  X.,  His  Court  and 
Policy.  The  work  of  Villari  is  of  the  first  quality,  and  excels  in  form 
and  clearness. 

Voigt,  Georg:  Die  Wiederlebung  des  classischen  Allerlhmtis.  2  vols. 
Berlin,  1893,  pp  591:543.  20  marks,  unbound.  Contents:  Introduction 
(Dante  and  the  Forerunners  of  the  Renaissance) — Book  I  ,  Petrarch — II., 
Boccaccio;  The  Greek  Teachers;  Discovery  of  the  Cl  issical  MSS. — III., 
First  Medicean  Period;  Humanism  in  the  Italian  Republics— IV.,  Hu- 
manism in  the  Italian  Courts — V.,  Humanism  in  the  Papal  Curia;  Age  of 
Nicholas  V. — VI.,  Propaganda  of  Humanism  Beyond  the  Alps — VII., 
Tendencies  and  Contributions  of  the  Humanists. 


10  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE  ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

BOOKS  ON  SPECIAL  TOPICS: 

On  the  Papacy  during  the  Renaissance  we  have: 

Creighton,  Mandell:  A  History  of  the  Papacy  from  the  Great  Schism 
to  the  Sack  of  Rome  (new  edition,  1897,  of  the  "History  of  the  Papacy 
during  the  Reformation  ").  6  vola.  Longmans.  Each  $2.00.  An  in- 
teresting narrative,  by  one  of  the  most  admired  historians  of  the  later 
nineteenth  century. 

Pastor,  Ludwig :  The  History  of  the  Popes  from  the  Close  of  the  Middle 
Ages.  Translated  from  the  German  by  F.  J.  Antrobus.  6  vols.  Herder,. 
St.  Louis,  1898.  Each  $3.00.  This  work,  a  monument  of  scholarship,, 
covers  the  history  of  the  Papacy  from  the  beginning  of  the  Avignon  exile,, 
1303,  to  the  end  of  the  pontificate  of  Julius  II.,  1513.  Extensive  bibli- 
ography. 

Gregorovius,  Ferdinand :  History  of  the  City  of  Rome.  Translated 
by  Annie  Hamilton.  London,  Geo.  Bell.  45.  6d.  net  per  volume.  Of 
this  scholarly  work  Vols.  VI. -VIII.  (each  volume  is  printed  in  two  parts) 
fall  within  our  period.  Vol.  VI.,  1305-1420;  Vol.  VII.,  1421-1503;  Vol. 
VIII.,  History  of  Rome  in  the  Sixteenth  Century. 

Rashdall,  H  :  The  Universities  of  Europe  in  the  Middle  Ages.  2  vols. 
(in  three  parts).  Clarendon  Press,  1895.  $14.00  net.  There  is  much  in 
this  standard  work  that  has  a  bearing  upon  the  Renaissance.  Note  Vol. 
II.,  Part  II  ,  Chapter  VI.,  The  Italian  Universities;  Chapter  XIV.,  Stu- 
dent Life  in  the  Middle  Ages. 

PICTURES : 

Some  knowledge  of  the  art  of  the  Renaissance  may  be  obtained  by 
means  of  the  many  reproductions  of  paintings  and  other  works  of  art,, 
which  are,  fortunately,  to  be  obtained  at  a  trifling  expense.  The  "  Perry 
Pictures"  (Maiden,  Mass.)  are  sold  at  one  cent  each;  the  "Cosmos  Pic- 
tures" (296  Broadway,  N.  Y.)  at  ten  for  twenty-five  cents,  or  fifty  for  one 
dollar.  The  Soule  Photographic  Reproductions  are  from  $1.50  per  dozen 
up.  A  good  series  for  guides  in  the  selection  oi  pictures  will  be  found  in 
the  "  College  Histories  of  Art,"  Longmans,  1899.  They  are:  History  of 
Painting,  by  John  C.  Vandyke;  History  of  Architecture,  by  Alfred  D.  F. 
Hamlin,  and  History  of  Sculpture,  by  Allen  Marquand. 

It  is  important  that  the  student  should  be  familiar  with  the  political 
divisions  of  Italy  in  the  time  of  the  Renaissance,  and  with  the  location 
of  the  chief  Italian  cities.  Any  good  historical  atlas  will  afford  this  in- 
formation. A  new  Atlas  of  European  History,  by  Prof.  Earl  W.  Dow* 
is  announced  by  Holt,  New  York. 


DANTE  ALIGHIERI.  II 

DANTE  ALIGHIERI. 

Born  at  Florence,  1265.  Took  part  in  the  political  struggles  of  the 
time,  and  fought  at  the  battle  of  Campaldino,  1289.  Held  office  of  prior 
in  1300,  and  as  a  result  of  factional  strife  was  banished  from  Florence 
two  years  later.  Some  portion  of  the  period  of  his  exile  he  passed  at  the 
court  of  the  lords  of  Verona.  In  1310  attached  himself  to  the  cause  of 
the  Emperor,  Henry  VII.  Died  at  Ravenna  in  1321.  The  principal 
works  of  Dante  are  the  Vita  Nuova,  the  Convito,  De  Monarchist,  a  treat- 
ise De  Vulgari  Eloquio,  and  the  Divina  Commedia. 

EXTRACT  FROM  DK  MONARCHIA.* 

Dante  refutes  arguments  which  shive  to  prove  that  the  Imperial  power 
is  subject  to  the  Papal  power.  Book  III.,  Sec.  iv. 

Those  men  to  whom  all  our  subsequent  reasoning  is  ad- 
dressed, when  they  assert  that  the  authority  of  the  Empire  de- 
pends on  the  authority  of  the  Church,  as  the  inferior  workman 
depends  upon  the  architect,  are  moved  to  take  this  view  by 
many  arguments,  some  of  which  they  draw  from  Holy  Script- 
ure, and  some  also  from  the  acts  of  the  Supreme  Pontiff  and  of 
the  Emperor  himself.  Moreover,  they  strive  to  have  some 
proof  of  reason. 

In  the  first  place  they  say  that  God,  according  to  the  book 
of  Genesis,  made  two  great  lights,  the  greater  light  to  rule  the 
day,  and  the  lesser  light  to  rule  the  night;  this  they  understand 
to  be  an  allegory,  for  that  the  lights  are  the  two  powers,  the 
spiritual  and  the  temporal.  And  then  they  maintain  that  as 
the  moon,  which  is  the  lesser  light,  only  has  light  so  far  as  she 
receives  it  from  the  sun,  so  the  temporal  power  only  has  author- 
ity as  it  receives  authority  from  the  spiritual  power. 

Having  thus  first  noted  these  things,  I  will  proceed,  as  I  said 
above,  to  destroy  the  argument  of  those  who  say  that  the  two 
great  lights  are  typical  of  the  two  great  powers  on  earth;  for 
on  this  type  rests  the  whole  strength  of  their  argument.  It 
can  be  shown  in  two  ways  that  this  interpretation  cannot  be 
upheld.  First,  seeing  that  these  two  kinds  of  power  are,  in  a 
sense,  accidents  of  men,  God  would  thus  appear  to  have  used 

*  Translated  by  F.  C.  Church,  in  Dante,  an  Essay,  by  R.  W.  Church, 
M.  A.,  D.  C.  L.,  London,  1878. 


12  SOURCE-BOOK   OF   THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

a  perverted  order,  by  producing  the  accidents  before  the  es- 
sence to  which  they  belong  existed;  and  it  is  ridiculous  to  say 
this  of  God.  For  the  txvo  lights  were  created  on  the  fourth 
day,  vvhi'e  man  was  not  created  till  the  sixth  day,  as  is  evident 
in  the  text  of  Scriptire. 

Secondly,  seeing  that  these  two  kinds  of  rule  are  to  guide 
men  to  certain  ends,  as  we  shall  see,  it  follows  that  if  man  had 
remained  in  the  state  of  inncc.Mice  in  which  God  created  him, 
he  would  not  have  needed  such  means  of  gu  dance.  These 
kinds  of  rule,  then,  are  remedies  against  the  weakness  of  sin. 
Since,  th^n,  man  was  not  a  sinner  on  the  fourth  day,  for  he  did 
not  then  even  exist,  it  would  have  been  idle  to  make  remedies 
for  his  sin,  and  this  wou'd  be  contrary  to  the  goodness  of  God. 
For  he  would  be  a  sorry  physician  who  would  make  a  plaster 
for  an  abscess  which  was  to  be,  before  the  man  was  horn.  It 
cannot,  therefore,  be  said  that  God  made  these  two  kinds  of 
rule  on  the  fourth  day,  and  therefore  the  meaning  of  Moses 
cannot  have  been  what  th  se  men  pretend. 

We  may  also  be  more  tolerant,  and  overthrow  this  falsehood 
by  drawing  a  distinction.  This  way  of  distinction  is  a  gentler 
way  of  treating  an  adversary,  for  so  his  arguments  are  not 
made  to  appear  consciously  false,  as  is  the  case  when  we  utterly 
overthrow  him.  I  say  then  that,  although  the  moon  has  not 
light  of  its  own  abundantly,  unless  it  receives  it  from  the  sun, 
yet  it  does  not  therefore  follow  that  the  moon  is  from  the  sun. 
Therefore  be  it  known  that  the  being,  and  the  power,  and  the 
working  of  the  moon  are  all  different  things.  For  its  being, 
the  moon  in  no  way  depends  on  the  sun,  nor  for  its  power,  nor 
for  its  working,  cons  dered  in  itse  f.  Its  motion  comes  from  its 
proper  mover,  its  influence  is  from  its  own  rays.  For  it  has  a 
certain  light  of  its  own,  which  is  manifest  at  the  time  of  an 
eclipse;  though  for  its  better  and  more  pow«  rful  workirg  it  re- 
ceives from  the  sun  an  abundant  light,  which  enables  it  to  work 
more  powerfully. 

X.  Cert,  in  persons  say  further  that  the  Emperor  Constan- 
tine,  having  been  cleansed  from  leprosy  by  the  intercession  of 
Sylvester,  then  the  Supreme  Pontiff,  ga\e  ui.to  the  church  the 


DANTE  AUGHIERI.  1 5 

seat  of  Empire,  which  was  Rome,  together  with  many  other 
dignities  belonging  to  the  Empire.  Hence  they  argue  that  no 
man  can  take  unto  himself  these  dignities  unless  he  receive 
them  from  the  Church,  whose  they  are  said  to  be.  From  this 
it  would  rightly  follow  that  one  authority  depends  on  the 
other,  as  they  maintain. 

The  arguments  which  seem  to  have  their  roots  in  the  Divine 
words,  have  been  stated  and  disproved.  It  remains  to  state 
and  disprove  those  which  are  grounded  on  Roman  history  and 
in  the  reason  of  mankind.  The  first  of  these  is  the  one  which 
we  have  mentioned,  in  which  the  Syllogism  runs  as  follows: 
No  one  has  a  right  to  those  things  which  belong  to  the  Church, 
unless  he  has  them  from  the  Church;  and  this  we  grant.  The 
government  of  Rome  belongs  to  the  Church;  therefore,  no  one 
has  a  right  to  it,  unless  it  be  given  him  by  the  Church.  The 
minor  premiss  is  proved  by  the  facts  concerning  Constantine, 
which  we  have  touched  upon. 

This  minor  premiss  then  will  I  destroy;  and  as  for  their 
proof,  I  say  that  it  proves  nothing.  For  the  dignity  of  the 
Empire  was  what  Constantine  could  not  alienate,  nor  the 
Church  receive.  And,  when  they  insist,  I  prove  my  words 
as  follows:  No  man,  on  the  strength  of  the  office  which  is  com- 
mitted to  him,  may  do  aught  that  is  contrary  to  that  office;  for 
so  one  and  the  same  man,  viewed  as  one  man,  would  be  con- 
trary to  himself,  which  is  impossible.  But  to  divide  the 
Empire  is  contrary  to  the  office  committed  to  the  Emperor;  for 
his  office  is  to  hold  mankind  in  all  things  subject  to  one  will; 
as  may  be  easily  seen  from  the  fir.-t  book  of  this  treatise. 
Therefore,  it  is  not  permitted  to  the  Emperor  to  divide  the 
Empire.  If,  therefore,  as  they  say,  any  dignities  had  been 
alienated  by  Constantine,  and  had  passed  to  the  Church,  the 
"coat  without  seam,"  which,  even  they,  who  pierced  Christ, 
the  true  God,  with  a  spear,  dared  not  rend,  would  have  been 
rent. 


14  SOURCE-BOOK  OP  THE  ITALIAN  RENAISSANCE. 

FRANCESCO  PETRARCA. 

Born  at  Arezzo,  1304,  during  the  exile  of  his  family  from  Florence. 
Removed,  1313,  to  Avignon.  Studied  law  at  Montpellier,  and  later  at 
Bologna,  1323.  Returned  to  Avignon,  1326,  and  attached  himself  to  the 
household  of  a  member  of  the  family  of  Colonna.  Settled  at  Vaucluse 
in  1337,  and  in  1341  received  the  poet's  crown  at  Rome.  Petrarch's 
friendship  with  Boccaccio  dates  from  their  meeting  at  Florence  in  1350. 
Made  extensive  journeys  in  Central  Europe,  and  was  a  welcome  guest  in 
the  courts  of  Italian  princes.  In  1369  retired  to  Arqu&,  not  far  from 
Padua,  where  he  died  in  1374.  Petrarch's  chief  literary  works  are  Poems, 
both  in  Latin  and  Italian,  and  Letters. 

EXTRACT  FROM  THE  EPISTOL^  VARI^,  NO.  25.* 

Your  letters  are  always  more  than  welcome,  especially  when 
I  have  need  of  consolation,  a  need  that  I  often  experience  amid 
the  weariness  of  life.  In  the  first  place  I  cannot  pass  over  in 
silence  a  certain  ambiguous  statement  of  yours,  that  you  are 
well  aware,  from  the  direction  my  affairs  are  taking,  that  I  am 
likely  to  make  a  permanent  stay  at  Milan.  You  conceal  your 
own  feelings  in  the  matter  by  ascribing  your  silence  to  the  fact 
that  you  have  not  the  hardihood  to  protest  against  my  resolu- 
tion. In  this  manner,  by  saying  nothing,  you  say  more  than 
if  you  had  said  much.  Surely,  silence  often  plays  a  great  part 
among  the  artifices  of  eloquence.  I  see  in  this  economy  of 
words  your  oft  expressed  solicitude  and  forethought,  and  not 
yours  alone,  but  that  of  others.  For  almost  all  my  friends, 
except  those  who  are  here  and  who  dread  the  idea  of  my  de- 
parture as  a  calamity — all  my  friends,  I  say,  prefer  that  I 
should  be  elsewhere.  There  seems  to  be  a  harmony  of  opinion 
in  this  matter.  But  whither  go?  Upon  this  point  exists  a 
wide  divergence  of  opinion.  Some  summon  me  to  Padua, 
others  beyond  the  Alps,  still  others  to  my  native  country. 
These  appeals  would  be  most  opportune,  if  the  affair  did  not 
present  a  difficulty  that  borders  upon  the  impossible.  Still 
others  will  invite  me  elsewhere;  each,  according  to  his  desire, 
will  offer  me  this  or  that  place  of  residence.  In  all  this  I  am 
less  astonished  at  the  variety  of  their  opinions  than  at  the  unan- 

*  Fracassetti,  J. :  Epistolae  de  rebus  familiaribus  et  variae.  Florence, 
1863.  Vol.  3,  pp.  364-371- 


FRANCESCO   PETRARCA.  15 

imity  which  exists  in  their  sentiments  of  tenderness  and  affec- 
tion. When  I  examine  thoughtfully  the  causes  of  this  variety, 
I  confess  the  variety  itself  pleases  me,  and  I  am  proud  of  being 
so  dear  to  my  friends,  that  their  friendship  for  me  blunts  the 
edge  and  dims  the  clearness  of  their  judgment. 

If  you  should  ask  me,  in  the  midst  of  these  opinions  of  my 
friends,  what  I  myself  think  of  the  matter,  I  can  only  reply 
that  I  long  for  a  place  where  solitude,  leisure,  repose  and 
silence  reign,  however  far  from  wealth  and  honors,  power  and 
favors.  But  I  confess,  I  know  not  where  to  find  it.  My  own 
secluded  nook,  where  I  have  hoped  not  alone  to  live,  but  even 
to  die,  has  lost  all  the  advantages  it  once  possessed,  even  that 
of  safety.  I  call  to  witness  thirty  or  more  volumes,  which  I 
left  there  recently,  thinking  that  no  place  could  be  more  secure, 
and  which,  a  little  later,  having  escaped  from  the  hands  of 
robbers  and  returned,  against  all  hope,  to  their  master,  seem 
yet  to  blanch  and  tremble  and  show  upon  their  foreheads  the 
troubled  condition  of  the  place  whence  they  have  escaped. 
Therefore  I  have  lost  all  hope  of  revisiting  this  charming  re- 
treat, this  longed-for  country  spot.  Still,  if  the  expectation 
were  offered  me,  I  should  seize  it  with  both  hands  and  hold  it 
fast.  I  do  not  know  whether  I  still  possess  a  glimmer  of  hope, 
or  am  feigning  it  for  self-deception,  and  to  feed  my  soul's  de- 
sire with  empty  expectation.  My  conversations  with  my 
friends,  by  day  and  night,  in  which  I  speak  of  almost  nothing 
else,  and  the  sighs  which  I  have  mingled  in  a  recent  letter  to 
the  bishop  of  the  neighborhood,  prove  that  I  have  not  yet 
wholly  turned  my  hopes  aside.  Truly  it  is  strange,  and  I 
could  not  tell  the  reason  for  it,  but  here  is  what  I  think:  our 
labors,  even  though  announced  by  fame,  can  be  brought  to 
completion  in  that  place  alone  where  they  have  been  under- 
taken, as  though  the  place  were  destined  by  fate  for  both  the 
beginning  and  the  end.  However  much,  moreover,  I  desire  to 
determine  the  place  and  the  manner  of  my  living,  according  as 
my  fortunes  vary,  I  find  myself  confirmed  in  my  indecision  by 
several  persons,  particularly  by  you  and  still  oftener  by  myself. 
In  this,  believe  me,  it  is  more  difficult  to  arrange  the  things 
themselves  than  to  quibble  over  words,  because  to  provide  for 


16  SOURCE-BOOK  OF  THE  ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

the  future  is  not  only  difficult,  but  uncertain;  so  that,  although 
the  result  may  be  fortunate,  the  choice  cannot  be  other  than  a 
matter  of  chance.  What  would  you  choose  at  a  moment  when 
your  most  established  resolutions  were  baffled  by  a  turn  of  the 
wheel  of  fortune  ?  There  is  but  one  choice  that  never  fails — 
to  live,  in  whatever  spot  necessity  or  desire  has  placed  us,  with 
a  contentment  that  has  its  origin  in  ourselves  and  not  in  our 
fortunes,  knowing  well  that  our  most  extensive  plans  will  have 
only  a  brief  duration. 

But  I  proceed,  recollecting  that  we  had  much  conversation 
on  this  point  last  year,  when  we  lived  together  in  the  same 
house,  in  this  very  city;  and  that  after  having  examined  the 
matter  most  carefully,  in  so  far  as  our  light  permitted,  we  came 
to  the  conclusion  that  while  the  affairs  of  Italy  and  of  Europe 
remained  in  this  condition,  there  was  no  place  safer  and  better 
for  my  needs  than  Milan,  nor  any  place  that  suited  me  so  well. 
We  made  exception  o^y  of  the  city  of  Padua,  whither  I  went 
shortly  after,  and  whither  I  shall  soon  return;  not  that  I  may 
obliterate  or  diminish — that  I  should  not  wish — but  that  I  may 
soften  the  regret  which  my  absence  causes  the  citizens  of  both 
places.  I  know  not  whether  you  have  changed  your  opinion 
since  that  time;  but  for  me  I  am  convinced  that  to  exchange 
the  tumult  of  this  great  city  and  its  annoyances  for  the  annoy- 
ances of  another  city  would  bring  me  no  advantage,  perhaps 
some  inconvenience,  and  beyond  a  doubt,  much  fatigue.  Ah, 
if  this  tranquil  solitude,  which,  in  spite  of  all  my  seeking,  I 
never  find,  as  I  have  told  you,  should  ever  show  itself  on  any 
side,  you  will  hear,  not  that  I  have  gone,  but  that  I  have  flown 
to  it  If  I  have  dwelt  at  such  length  upon  so  trivial  a  thing,  it 
is  because  I  wish  to  satisfy  you,  you  and  my  friends,  in  the 
matter  of  my  affairs,  of  which  this  is  the  chief.  This  desire  has 
been  awakened  in  me  by  the  numerous  letters  of  my  friends. 
Since  it  is  impossible  to  reply  to  each  one  of  them,  and  the 
greater  part  of  them  are  of  the  same  counsel,  I  have  conceived 
the  idea  of  replying  to  them  all  at  once  and  of  devoting  an 
entire  volume  to  a  discourse  upon  the  manner  of  my  life. 
Alas  !  I  comprehend  now  that  living  is  a  serious  matter. 

In  the  following  paragraph  of  your  letter  you  jest  with  much 


FRANCESCO   PETRARCA.  If 

elegance,  saying  that  I  have  been  wounded  by  Cicero  without 
having  deserved  it,  on  account  of  our  too  great  intimacy.* 
"Because,"  you  say,  "  those  who  are  nearest  to  us  most  often 
injure  us,  and  it  is  extremely  rare  that  an  Indian  does  an  injury 
to  a  Spaniard."  True  it  is.  It  is  on  this  account  that  in  read- 
ing of  the  wars  of  the  Athenians  and  Lacedaemonians,  and  in 
contemplating  the  troubles  of  our  own  people  with  our  neigh- 
bors, we  are  never  struck  with  astonishment;  still  less  so  at 
the  sight  of  the  civil  wars  and  domestic  troubles  which  habitude 
has  made  of  so  little  account,  that  concord  itself  would  more 
easily  cause  surprise.  But  when  we  read  that  the  King  of 
Scythia  has  come  to  blows  with  the  King  of  Egypt,  and  that 
Alexander  of  Macedonia  had  penetrated  to  the  ends  of  India, 
we  experience  a  sensation  of  astonishment  which  the  reading 
of  our  histories,  filled  as  they  are  with  the  deeds  of  Roman 
bravery  in  their  distant  expeditions,  does  not  afford.  You 
bring  me  consolation,  in  representing  me  as  having  been 
wounded  by  Cicero,  to  whom  I  am  fondly  attached,  a  thing 
that  would  probably  never  happen  to  me,  either  at  the  hands 
of  Hippocrates  or  Albumazar. 

But  laying  aside  pleasantry,  in  order  to  acquaint  you  with 
the  truth,  this  Ciceronian  wound,  at  which  at  first  I  laughed, 
has  converted  my  mirth  into  tears.  For  almost  a  year  it  was 
daily  growing  worse,  so  that  between  weariness  and  suffering, 
between  physicians  and  remedies,  I  fell  into  despair.  Finally, 
not  only  overwhelmed  with  disgust,  but  weary  of  life,  I  re- 
solved to  await,  without  physicians,  the  end,  whatever  it  might 
be,  and  to  trust  myself  to  God  and  to  Nature  rather  than  to 
those  peddlers  of  ointments,  who,  in  attending  my  case,  have 
taken  the  opportunity  of  making  some  experiments  along  the 
line  of  their  profession. 

And  so  it  happened.  The  physicians  excluded,  thanks  to 
the  assistance  of  the  heavenly  Physician;  thanks  to  the  atten- 
tions of  a  young  man  who  waits  upon  me,  and  who,  in  dressing 
my  wound,  has  become  a  physician  at  my  expense,  so  to  speak; 

*  Petrarch  had  been  slightly  injured  by  the  fall  of  a  heavy  volume  of 
Cicero's  Letters. 


1 8  SOURCE- BOOK  OF  THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

thanks  also  to  the  use  of  certain  remedies,  which  I  determined 
by  observation  were  most  helpful  to  me,  and  to  that  abstinence 
which  assists  Nature,  I  have  returned  little  by  little  to  that 
state  of  health  from  which  I  was  so  far  removed.  This  is  the 
whole  story.  I  might  add,  that  although  this  life  is  a  vale  of 
sorrows,  in  which  I  have  often  met  with  strange  accidents  (not 
strange  in  themselves,  but  strange  for  me,  of  all  men  the  fond- 
est of  repose  and  the  most  determined  enemy  of  such  tribula- 
tions), yet  up  to  this  time  I  have  never  experienced  anything  of 
the  kind,  if  you  consider  the  cause  of  the  trouble,  the  suffering 
it  entailed  and  the  length  of  its  duration.  My  beloved  Cicero  has 
imprinted  in  my  memory  an  indelible  mark,  an  eternal  stigma. 
I  should  have  remembered  him,  but  he  has  brought  it  about, 
both  internally  and  externally,  that  I  am  positively  unable  ever 
to  forget  him.  Once  more,  alas  !  I  have  come  to  know  that  life 
is  a  severe  affliction. 

Leaving  other  things  aside,  I  now  come  to  the  occurrence 
which  has  covered  me  with  honor  and  with  joy.  When  I 
learned  that  a  number  of  distinguished  personages,  who  cer- 
tainly were  not  the  least  of  the  princes  of  Italy,  finding  them- 
selves at  the  end  of  the  world,  by  night,  in  winter,  during  a 
tempest,  in  time  of  war,  reduced  to  extremities,  were  received 
in  my  name  within  the  walls  of  a  city  and  treated  with  distinc- 
tion, I  was  astonished  at  first,  and  thought  it  must  be  an  error 
in  names.  Later  I  recalled  with  some  difficulty  the  time  when, 
in  my  youth,  I  followed  into  that  country  him,  who,  by  the 
token  of  his  calm  brow,  might  have  led  me  beyond  the  Indies. 
Thirty  summers  have  rolled  by  since  that  time,  and  ten  since 
the  death  of  this  grand  man,  unripe  in  years,  but  ripe  in 
virtues.  Pursuing  this  train  of  recollection  I  have  finally  been 
able  to  conjecture  who  it  might  be  that  after  so  long  a  time  still 
retained  a  memory  of  me,  whom  I,  it  must  be  confessed,  had 
almost  completely  forgotten.  I  addressed  to  him  by  letter,  as 
you  have  seen,  the  thanks  which  he  deserved,  for  in  no  way 
could  he  place  me  under  greater  obligation,  than  by  his  honor- 
able reception  of  such  great  personages,  and  he  will  be  not  the 
less  surprised  at  my  remembrance  of  him,  if  he  does  not  dream 


FRANCESCO  PETRARCA.  19 

that  he  has  refreshed  my  memory  with  a  recent  deed  of  kind- 
ness.* 

You  ask  me  finally  to  lend  you  the  copy  of  Homer  that  was 
on  sale  at  Padua,  if,  as  you  suppose,  I  have  purchased  it;  since, 
you  say,  I  have  for  a  long  time  possessed  another  copy;  so  that 
our  friend  Leo  f  may  translate  it  from  Greek  into  Latin  for  your 
benefit  and  for  the  benefit  of  our  other  studious  compatriots.  I 
saw  this  book,  but  neglected  the  opportunity  of  acquiring  it, 
because  it  seemed  inferior  to  my  own.  It  can  easily  be  had 
with  the  aid  of  the  person  to  whom  I  owe  my  friendship  with 
Leo;  a  letter  from  that  source  would  be  all-powerful  in  the 
matter,  and  I  will  myself  write  him. 

If  by  chance  the  book  escape  us,  which  seems  to  be  very 
unlikely,  I  will  let  you  have  mine.  I  have  been  always  fond 
of  this  particular  translation  and  of  Greek  literature  in  general, 
and  if  fortune  had  not  frowned  upon  my  beginnings,  in  the  sad 
death  of  my  excellent  master,  I  should  be  perhaps  to-day  some- 
thing more  than  a  Greek  still  at  his  alphabet.  I  approve  with 
all  my  heart  and  strength  your  enterprise,  for  I  regret  and  am 
indignant  that  an  ancient  translation,  presumably  the  work  of 
Cicero,  the  commencement  of  which  Horace  inserted  in  his  Ars 
Poetica,  should  have  been  lost  to  the  Latin  world,  together  with 
many  other  works.  It  angers  me  to  see  so  much  solicitude 
for  the  bad  and  so  much  neglect  of  the  good.  But  what  is 
to  be  done  ?  We  must  be  resigned.  If  the  zeal  of  strangers 
shall  come  to  rouse  us  from  our  lethargy,  then  may  the 
Muses  and  our  Apollo  help  it  on  !  The  Chinese,  the  Arabs 
and  the  Red  Sea  offer  in  my  eyes  no  more  valuable  mer- 
chandise (merx).  I  arn  not  unaware  of  what  I  say.  I  know 
that  this  nominative  (merx)  is  not  used  to-day  by  our  gram- 
marians; but  it  was  used  by  the  ancients,  possibly  not  by  the 
very  earliest,  whose  style  the  ignorance  of  our  times  blushes  to 
imitate;  but  by  those  nearest  to  us  and  the  first  in  science  and 
ability,  whom  blind  and  loquacious  pride  has  not  yet  dared  to 
set  aside.  In  their  writings,  and  notably  in  Horace,  I  remem- 

*  It  is  unknown  to  what  occasion  Petrarch  here  refers, 
f  Leo  Pilatus. 


20  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE  ITALIAN  RENAISSANCE. 

ber  that  the  nominative  of  which  I  speak  is  often  found.  L,et 
us  put  it  again  into  use,  I  beg  of  you,  if  we  may;  for  I  do  not 
know  why  we  should  not  dare  to  recall  from  unmerited  exile 
this  word  banished  from  the  L,atin  country,  and  introduce  it 
into  the  tongue  to  which  we  are  devoting  all  our  time. 

I  wish  to  take  this  opportunity  of  warning  you  of  one  thing, 
lest  later  on  I  should  regret  having  passed  it  over  in  silence. 
If,  as  you  say,  the  translation  is  to  be  made  literally  i  u  prose, 
listen  for  a  moment  to  the  opinion  of  St.  Jerome  as  expressed 
in  his  preface  to  the  book,  De  Temporibus,  by  Eusebius  of 
Caesarea,  which  he  translated  into  Latin.  Here  are  the  very 
words  of  this  great  man,  well  acquainted  with  these  two  lan- 
guages, and  indeed  with  many  others,  and  of  especial  fame  for 
his  art  of  translating:  If  any  one,  he  says,  refuses  to  believe  that 
translation  lessens  the  peculiar  charm  of  the  original,  let  him  ren- 
der Homer  into  Latin,  word  for  word  ;  I  will  say  further,  let  him 
translate  it  into  prose  in  his  own  tongue,  and  he  will  see  a  ridicu- 
lous array  and  the  most  eloquent  of  poets  transformed  into  a  stam- 
merer. I  tell  you  this  for  your  own  good,  while  it  is  yet  time, 
in  order  that  so  important  a  work  may  not  prove  useless.  As 
for  me,  I  wish  the  work  to  be  done,  whether  well  or  ill.  I  am 
so  famished  for  literature  that  just  as  he  who  is  ravenously 
hungry  is  not  inclined  to  quarrel  with  the  cook's  art,  so  I  await 
with  a  lively  impatience  whatever  dishes  are  to  be  set  before 
my  soul.  And  in  truth,  the  morsel  in  which  the  same  I<eo, 
translating  into  Latin  prose  the  beginning  of  Homer,  has  given 
me  a  foretaste  of  the  whole  work,  although  it  confirms  the  sen- 
timent of  St.  Jerome,  does  not  displease  me.  It  possesses,  in 
fact,  a  secret  charm,  as  certain  viands,  which  have  failed  to 
take  a  moulded  shape,  although  they  are  lacking  in  form,  pre- 
serve nevertheless  their  taste  and  odor.  Ma}'  he  continue  with 
the  aid  of  Heaven,  and  may  he  give  us  Homer,  who  has  been 
lost  to  us! 

In  asking  of  me  the  volume  of  Plato  which  I  have  with  me, 
and  which  escaped  the  fire  at  my  trans- Alpine  country  house, 
you  give  me  proof  of  your  ardor,  and  I  shall  hold  this  book  at 
3rour  disposal,  whenever  the  time  shall  come.  I  wish  to  aid 
with  all  my  power  such  noble  enterprises.  But  beware  lest  it 


GIOVANNI   BOCCACCIO.  21 

should  be  unbecoming  to  unite  in  one  bundle  these  two  great 
princes  of  Greece,  lest  the  weight  of  these  two  spirits  should 
overwhelm  mortal  shoulders.  Let  your  messenger  undertake, 
with  God's  aid,  one  of  the  two,  and  first  him  who  has  written 
many  centuries  before  the  other.  Farewell. 
(Milan,  Aug.  18,  1360.) 

GIOVANNI  BOCCACCIO, 

Born  in  1313,  place  of  birth  unknown;  by  some  thought  to  be  Paris,  by 
others  Certaldo.  Was  apprenticed  for  six  years  to  a  merchant,  and  for 
six  years  attempted  the  study  of  canon  law.  1333  went  to  Naples  on 
mercantile  business,  attached  himself  to  the  court  of  Robert  of  Anjou, 
and  devoted  himself  to  literary  pursuits.  Neapolitan  period,  1333-1350 
(except  1341-1344  spent  at  Florence);  a  period  of  romantic  and  poetical 
production:  Filocopo,  Teseide,  Ameto,  L' amoroso,  Visione,  Fiametta  and 
Filostrato.  1350  entered  the  diplomatic  service  of  the  republic ;  met 
Petrarch,  1350;  became  interested  in  the  discovery  and  preservation  of 
classical  manuscripts.  Decameron  published  1353.  I3^3~1373,  Period  of 
production  of  Latin  works  relating  to  the  study  of  classics:  De  Genealogia 
Deorum  libri  XV;  De  Montium,  Silvarum,  Lacuum,  et  Marium  nom- 
inibus  liber;  Dr.  Casibus  Virorum  et  Feminarum  Illustrium  libri  IX; 
and  De  Claris  Mulieribus.  Also  other  lesser  works  and  Rime  in  the 
vernacular.  Occupied  the  chair  for  the  interpretation  of  the  Divine 
Comedy  at  Florence,  1373.  Died  at  Certaldo,  1375. 

FROM  THE  INTRODUCTION  TO  THE  DECAMERON.* 

In  the  year  then  of  our  Lord  1348,  there  happened  at  Flor- 
ence, the  finest  city  in  all  Italy,  a  most  terrible  plague;  which, 
whether  owing  to  the  influence  of  the  planets,  or  that  it  was 
sent  from  God  as  a  just  punishment  for  our  sins,  had  broken 
out  some  years  before  in  the  Levant,  and  after  passing  from 
place  to  place,  and  making  incredible  havoc  all  the  way,  had 
now  reached  the  west.  There,  spite  of  all  the  means  that  art 
and  human  foresight  could  suggest,  such  as  keeping  the  city 
clear  from  filth,  the  exclusion  of  all  suspected  persons,  and  the 
publication  of  copious  instructions  for  the  preservation  of 
health  ;  and  notwithstanding  manifold  humble  supplications 
offered  to  God  in  processions  and  otherwise;  it  began  to  show 
itself  in  the  spring  of  the  aforesaid  year,  in  a  sad  and  wonder- 

*  From  Kelly's  translation  in  the  Bohn  edition. 


22  SOURCB-BOOK   OF  THE  ITALIAN  RENAISSANCE. 

ful  manner.  Unlike  what  had  been  seen  in  the  east,  where 
bleeding  from  the  nose  is  the  fatal  prognostic,  here  there  ap- 
peared certain  tumours  in  the  groin  or  under  the  arm-pits,  some 
as  big  as  a  small  apple,  others  as  an  egg;  and  afterwards  purple 
spots  in  most  parts  of  the  body;  in  some  cases  large  and  but 
few  in  number,  in  others  smaller  and  more  numerous,  both 
sorts  the  usual  messengers  of  death.  To  the  cure  of  this  mal- 
ady, neither  medical  knowledge  nor  the  power  of  drugs  was  of 
any  effect;  whether  because  the  disease  was  in  its  own  nature 
mortal,  or  that  the  physicians  (the  number  of  whom,  taking 
quacks  and  women  pretenders  into  the  account,  was  grown  very 
great),  could  form  no  just  idea  of  the  cause,  nor  consequently 
devise  a  true  method  of  cure;  whichever  was  the  reason,  few 
escaped;  but  nearly  all  died  the  third  day  from  the  first  appear- 
ance of  the  symptoms,  some  sooner,  some  later,  without  any 
fever  or  other  accessory  symptoms.  What  gave  the  more  vir- 
ulence to  this  plague  was  that,  by  being  communicated  from 
the  sick  to  the  hale,  it  spread  daily,  like  fire  when  it  comes  in 
contact  with  large  masses  of  combustibles.  Nor  was  it  caught 
only  by  conversing  with,  or  coming  near  the  sick,  but  even  by 
touching  their  clothes,  or  anything  that  they  had  before 
touched.  It  is  wonderful  what  I  am  going  to  mention,  and  had 
I  not  seen  it  with  my  own  eyes,  and  were  there  not  many  wit- 
nesses to  attest  it  besides  myself,  I  should  never  venture  to  re- 
late it,  however  worthy  it  were  of  belief.  Such,  I  say,  was  the 
quality  of  the  pestilential  matter,  as  to  pass  not  only  from  man 
to  man,  but,  what  is  more  strange,  it  has  been  often  known, 
that  anything  belonging  to  the  infected,  if  touched  by  any 
other  creature,  would  certainly  infect,  and  even  kill  that  creat- 
ure in  a  short  space  of  time.  One  instance  of  the  kind  I  took 
particular  notice  of:  the  rags  of  a  poor  man,  just  dead,  had 
been  thrown  into  the  street;  two  hogs  came  up,  and  after  root- 
ing amongst  the  rags  and  shaking  them  about  in  their  mouths, 
in  less  than  an  hour  they  both  turned  round  and  died  on  the 
spot. 

These  facts,  and  others  of  the  like  sort,  occasioned  various 
fears  and  devices  amongst  those  who  survived,  all  tending  to 
the  same  uncharitable  and  cruel  end,  which  was,  to  avoid  the 


GIOVANNI   BOCCACCIO.  23 

sick  and  everything  that  had  been  near  them,  expecting  by 
that  means  to  save  themselves.  And  some  holding  it  best  to 
live  temperately,  and  to  avoid  excesses  of  all  kinds,  made  par- 
ties and  shut  themselves  up  from  the  rest  of  the  world,  eating 
and  drinking  moderately  of  the  best,  and  diverting  themselves 
with  music,  and  such  other  entertainments  as  they  might  have 
within  doors,  never  listening  to  anything  from  without  to  make 
them  uneasy.  Others  maintained  free  living  to  be  a  better  pre- 
servative, and  would  baulk  no  passion  or  appetite  they  wished 
to  gratify,  drinking  and  revelling  incessantly  from  tavern  to 
tavern,  or  in  private  houses  (which  were  frequently  found  de- 
serted by  the  owners,  and,  therefore,  common  to  every  one), 
yet  strenuously  avoiding,  with  all  this  brutal  indulgence,  to 
come  near  the  infected.  And  such,  at  that  time,  was  the  pub- 
lic distress,  that  the  laws,  human  and  divine,  were  no  more  re- 
garded; for  the  officers  to  put  them  in  force  being  either  dead, 
sick,  or  in  want  of  persons  to  assist  them,  every  one  did  just  as 
he  pleased.  A  third  sort  of  people  chose  a  method  between 
these  two,  not  confining  themselves  to  rules  of  diet  like  the 
former,  and  yet  avoiding  the  intemperance  of  the  latter ;  but 
eating  and  drinking  what  their  appetites  required,  they  walked 
everywhere  with  odours  and  nosegays  to  smell  to,  as  holding 
it  best  to  corroborate  the  brain,  for  the  whole  atmosphere 
seemed  to  them  tainted  with  the  stench  of  dead  bodies,  arising 
partly  from  the  distemper  itself  and  partly  from  the  fermenting 
of  medicines  within  them.  Others,  with  less  humanity,  but 
perchance,  as  they  supposed,  with  more  security  from  danger, 
decided  that  the  only  remedy  for  the  pestilence  was  to  avoid  it; 
persuaded,  therefore,  of  this,  and  taking  care  for  themselves 
only,  men  and  women  in  great  numbers  left  the  city,  their 
houses,  relations  and  effects,  and  fled  to  the  country,  as  if  the 
wrath  of  God  had  been  restrained  to  visit  those  only  within  the 
walls  of  the  city,  or  else  concluding  that  none  ought  to  stay  in 
a  place  thus  doomed  to  destruction. 

Thus  divided  as  they  were  in  their  views,  neither  did  all  die, 
nor  all  escape;  but  falling  sick  indifferently,  as  well  those  of 
one  as  of  another  opinion,  they  who  first  set  the  example  by 
forsaking  others  now  languished  themselves  without  pity.  I 


24  SOURCE- BOOK   OF  THE   ITALIAN  RENAISSANCE. 

pass  over  the  little  regard  that  citizens  and  relations  showed  to 
each  other,  for  their  terror  was  such  that  a  brother  even  fled 
from  his  brother,  a  wife  from  her  husband,  and,  what  is  more 
uncommon,  a  parent  from  his  own  child.  Hence,  numbers 
that  fell  sick  could  have  no  help  but  what  the  charity  of  friends, 
who  were  very  few,  or  the  avarice  of  servants  supplied;  and 
even  these  were  scarce  and  at  extravagant  wages,  and  so  little 
used  to  the  business  that  they  were  fit  only  to  reach  what  was 
called  for,  and  observe  when  their  employers  died,  and  this 
desire  of  getting  money  often  cost  them  their  lives. 

NOVEL  II. 

Abraham  the  Jew,  at  the  instigation  ofjeannot  de  Chivigni,  goes  to  the 
court  of  Rome,  and  seeing  the  wickedness  of  the  clergy  there  returns  to 
Paris,  and  becomes  a  Christian. 

******  * 

At  Paris  there  lived,  as  I  have  been  told,  a  great  merchant 
and  worthy  man  called  Jeannot  de  Chivigni,  a  dealer  in  silk, 
and  an  intimate  friend  to  a  certain  rich  Jew,  whose  name  was 
Abraham,  a  merchant  also,  and  a  very  honest  man.  Jeannot, 
being  no  stranger  to  Abraham's  good  and  upright  intentions, 
was  greatly  troubled  that  the  soul  of  so  wise  and  well-meaning 
a  person  should  perish  through  his  unbelief.  He  began, 
therefore,  in  the  most  friendly  manner,  to  entreat  him  to  re- 
nounce the  errors  of  Judaism,  and  embrace  the  truth  of  Christ- 
ianity, which  he  might  plainly  see  flourishing  more  and  more, 
and  as  being  the  most  wise  and  holy  institution,  gaining 
ground,  whereas  the  religion  of  the  Jews  was  dwindling  to  noth- 
ing. Abraham  answered,  that  he  esteemed  no  religion  like  his 
own;  he  was  born  in  it,  and  in  it  he  intended  to  live  and  die; 
nor  could  anything  make  him  alter  his  resolution.  All  this 
did  not  hinder  Jeannot  from  beginning  the  same  arguments 
over  again  in  a  few  days,  and  setting  forth,  in  as  awkward  a 
manner  as  a  merchant  must  be  supposed  to  do,  for  what  reasons 
our  religion  ought  to  be  preferred:  and  though  the  Jew  was 
well  read  in  their  law,  yet,  whether  it  was  his  regard  to  the 
man,  or  that  Jeannot  had  the  spirit  of  God  upon  his  tongue,  he 
began  to  be  greatly  pleased  with  his  arguments;  but  continued 
obstinate,  nevertheless,  in  his  own  creed,  and  would  not  suffer 


GIOVANNI   BOCCACCIO.  25 

himself  to  be  converted.  Jeanriot,  on  the  other  hand,  was  no 
less  persevering  in  his  earnest  solicitations,  insomuch  that  the 
Jew  was  overcome  by  them  at  last,  and  said:  "  L,ook  you, 
Jeannot,  you  are  very  desirous  I  should  become  a  Christian, 
and  I  am  so  much  disposed  to  do  as  you  would  have  me,  that  I 
intend  in  the  first  place  to  go  to  Rome,  to  see  him  whom  you 
call  God's  vicar  on  earth,  and  to  consider  his  ways  a  little,  and 
those  of  his  brother  cardinals.  If  they  appear  to  me  in  such  a 
light  that  I  may  be  able  to  comprehend  by  them,  and  by  what 
you  have  said,  that  your  religion  is  better  than  mine,  as  you 
would  persuade  me,  I  will  then  become  a  Christian;  otherwise 
I  will  continue  a  Jew  as  I  am." 

When  Jeannot  heard  this  he  was  much  troubled,  and  said  to 
himself:  ' '  I  have  lost  all  my  labor,  which  I  thought  well  be- 
stowed, expecting  to  have  converted  this  man;  for  should  he 
go  to  Rome,  and  see  the  wickedness  of  the  clergy  there,  so  far 
from  turning  Christian,  were  he  one  already,  he  would  cer- 
tainly again  become  a  Jew."  Then  addressing  Abraham,  he 
said:  "  Nay,  my  friend,  why  should  you  be  at  the  great  trouble 
and  expense  of  such  a  journey  ?  Not  to  mention  the  dangers, 
both  by  sea  and  land,  to  which  so  rich  a  person  as  yourself 
must  be  exposed,  do  you  think  to  find  nobody  here  that  can 
baptize  you  ?  Or  if  you  have  doubt  and  scruples,  where  will 
you  meet  with  abler  men  than  are  here  to  clear  them  up  for 
you,  and  to  answer  such  questions  as  you  shall  put  to  him  ? 
You  may  take  it  for  granted  that  the  prelates  yonder  are  like 
those  you  see  in  France,  only  so  much  the  better  as  they  are 
nearer  to  the  principal  pastor.  Then  let  me  advise  you  to 
spare  yourself  the  trouble  of  this  journey,  until  such  time  as 
you  may  want  some  pardon  or  indulgence,  and  then  I  may 
probably  bear  you  company. ' ' 

"  I  believe  it  is  as  you  say,"  replied  the  Jew,  "  but  the  long 
and  the  short  of  the  matter  is,  that  I  am  fully  resolved,  if  you 
would  have  me  do  what  you  have  so  much  solicited,  to  go 
thither,  else  I  will  in  no  wise  comply." 

Jeannot,  seeing  him  determined,  said:  "God  be  with  you!" 
and,  supposing  that  he  would  never  be  a  Christian  after  he 
had  seen  Rome,  gave  him  over  for  lost.  The  Jew  took  horse, 


26  SOURCE- BOOK  OF  THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

and  made  the  best  of  his  way  to  Rome,  where  he  was  most 
honorably  received  by  his  brethren,  the  Jews;  and,  without 
saying  a  word  of  what  he  was  come  about,  he  began  to  look 
narrowly  into  the  manner  of  living  of  the  pope,  the  cardinals, 
and  other  prelates,  and  of  the  whole  court;  and,  from  what  he 
himself  perceived,  being  a  person  of  keen  observation,  and  from 
what  he  gathered  from  others,  he  found  that,  from  the  highest 
to  the  lowest,  they  were  given  to  all  sorts  of  lewdness,  without 
the  least  shame  or  remorse;  so  that  the  only  way  to  obtain  any- 
thing considerable  was,  by  applying  to  prostitutes  of  every  de- 
scription. He  observed,  also,  that  they  were  generally  drunk- 
ards and  gluttons,  and,  like  brutes,  more  solicitous  about  their 
bellies  than  anything  else.  Inquiring  further,  he  found  them 
all  such  lovers  of  money,  that  they  would  not  only  buy  and 
sell  man's  blood  in  general,  but  even  the  blood  of  Christians 
and  sacred  things  of  what  kind  soever,  whether  benefices,  or 
pertaining  to  the  altar;  that  they  drove  as  great  a  trade  in  this 
way  as  there  is  in  selling  cloth  and  other  commodities  at  Paris; 
that  to  palpable  simony  they  had  given  the  plausible  name  of 
procuration,  and  debaucheries  they  called  supporting  the  body; 
as  if  God  had  been  totally  unacquainted  with  their  wicked  in- 
tentions, and,  like  men,  was  to  be  imposed  upon  by  the  names 
of  things.  These  and  other  things,  which  I  shall  pass  over, 
gave  great  offense  to  the  Jew,  who  was  a  sober  and  modest  per- 
son; and  now  thinking  he  had  seen  enough,  he  returned  home. 
As  soon  as  Jeannot  heard  of  his  arrival  he  went  to  see  him, 
thinking  of  nothing  so  little  as  of  his  conversion.  They  re- 
ceived one  another  with  a  great  deal  of  pleasure,  and  in  a  day 
or  two,  after  the  traveler  had  recovered  from  his  fatigue,  Jean- 
not began  to  inquire  of  him  what  he  thought  of  the  holy  father, 
the  cardinals,  and  the  rest  of  the  court  ?  The  Jew  immediately 
answered:  "To  me  it  seems  as  if  God  was  much  kinder  to 
them  than  they  deserve;  for,  if  I  may  be  allowed  to  judge,  I 
must  be  bold  to  tell  you,  that  I  have  neither  seen  sanctity,  de- 
votion or  anything  good  in  the  clergy  of  Rome;  but,  on  the  con- 
trary, luxury,  avarice,  gluttony,  and  worse  than  these,  if  worse 
things  can  be,  are  so  much  in  fashion  with  all  sorts  of  people, 
that  I  should  rather  esteem  the  court  of  Rome  to  be  a  forge,  if 


GIOVANNI   BOCCACCIO.  27 

you  allow  the  expression,  for  diabolical  operations  than  things 
divine;  and,  for  what  I  can  perceive,  your  pastor,  and  conse- 
quently the  rest,  strive  with  their  whole  might  and  skill  to 
overthrow  the  Christian  religion,  and  to  drive  it  from  off  the 
face  of  the  earth,  even  where  they  ought  to  be  its  chief  succor 
and  support.  But  as  I  do  not  see  this  come  to  pass,  which 
they  so  earnestly  aim  at;  on  the  contrary,  that  your  religion 
gains  strength  and  becomes  everyday  more  glorious,  I  plainly 
perceive  that  it  is  upheld  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  as  the  most  true 
and  holy  of  all.  For  which  reason,  though  I  continued  ob- 
stinate to  your  exhortations,  nor  would  suffer  myself  to  be  con- 
verted by  them,  now  I  declare  to  you  that  I  will  no  longer  defer 
being  made  a  Christian.  L,et  us  go  then  to  the  church,  and  do 
you  take  care  that  I  be  baptized  according  to  the  manner  of 
your  holy  faith." 

Jeannot,  who  expected  a  quite  different  conclusion,  was  the 
most  overjoyed  man  that  could  be,  and  taking  his  friend  to  our 
Lady's  Church  at  Paris,  he  requested  the  priests  there  to  bap- 
tize him,  which  was  done  forthwith.  Jeannot  being  his  spon- 
sor, gave  him  the  name  of  John,  and  afterwards  took  care  to 
have  him  well  instructed  in  our  faith,  in  which  he  made  a  speedy 
proficiency,  and  became,  in  time,  a  good  and  holy  man. 

NOVEL  III. 

Melchizedeck,  a  Jew,  by  the  story  of  three  rings,  escapes  a  most  danger- 
ous snare,  which  Saladin  had  prepared  for  him. 

This  novel  having  been  universally  applauded,  Filomena 
thus  began:  Neiphile's  story  put  me  in  mind  of  a  ticklish  case 
that  befell  a  certain  Jew;  for  as  enough  has  been  said  concern- 
ing God  and  the  truth  of  our  religion,  it  will  not  be  amiss  if 
we  descend  to  the  actions  of  men.  I  proceed,  therefore,  to  the 
relation  of  a  thing,  which  may  make  you  more  cautious  for  the 
time  to  come,  in  answering  questions  that  shall  be  put  to  you. 
For  you  must  know  that  as  a  man's  folly  often  brings  him 
down  from  the  most  exalted  state  of  life  to  the  greatest  misery, 
so  shall  his  good  sense  secure  him  in  the  midst  of  the  utmost 
danger,  and  procure  him  a  safe  and  honorable  repose.  There 
are  many  instances  of  people  being  brought  to  misery  by  their 


28  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE  ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

own  folly,  but  these  I  choose  to  omit,  as  they  happen  daily; 
what  I  purpose  to  exemplify,  in  the  following  short  novel,  is 
the  great  cause  for  comfort  to  be  found  in  the  possession  of  a 
good  understanding. 

Saladin  was  so  brave  and  great  a  man  that  he  had  raised 
himself  from  an  inconsiderable  station  to  be  Sultan  of  Babylon, 
and  had  gained  many  victories  over  both  Turkish  and  Christian 
princes.  This  monarch,  having  in  divers  wars,  and  by  many 
extraordinary  expenses,  run  through  all  his  treasure,  some 
urgent  occasion  fell  out  that  he  wanted  a  large  sum  of  money. 
Not  knowing  which  way  he  might  raise  enough  to  answer  his 
necessities,  he  at  last  called  to  mind  a  rich  Jew  of  Alexandria, 
named  Melchizedeck,  who  let  out  money  at  interest.  Him  he 
believed  to  have  wherewithal  to  serve  him;  but  then  he  was  so 
coveteous,  that  he  would  never  do  it  willingly,  and  Saladin  was 
loath  to  force  him.  But  as  necessity  has  no  law,  after  much 
thinking  which  way  the  matter  might  best  be  effected,  he  at 
last  resolved  to  use  force  under  some  color  of  reason.  He 
therefore  sent  for  the  Jew,  received  him  in  a  most  gracious 
manner,  and  making  him  sit  down,  thus  addressed  him : 
"  Worthy  man,  I  hear  from  divers  persons  that  thou  art  very 
wise  and  knowing  in  religious  matters;  wherefore  I  would 
gladly  know  from  thee  which  religion  thou  judgest  to  be  the 
true  one,  viz.,  the  Jewish,  the  Mahometan  or  the  Christian?" 
The  Jew  (truly  a  wise  man)  found  that  Saladin  had  a  mind  to 
trap  him,  and  must  gain  his  point  should  he  exalt  any  one  of 
the  three  religions  above  the  others;  after  considering,  there- 
fore, for  a  little  how  best  to  avoid  the  snare,  his  ingenuity  at 
last  supplied  him  with  the  following  answer: 

"The  question  which  your  Highness  has  proposed  is  very 
curious;  and,  that  I  may  give  you  my  sentiments,  I  must  beg 
leave  to  tell  a  short  story.  I  remember  often  to  have  heard  of 
a  great  and  rich  man,  who  among  his  most  rare  and  precious 
jewels  had  a  ring  of  exceeding  beauty  and  value.  Being  proud 
of  possessing  a  thing  of  such  worth,  and  desirous  that  it  should 
continue  for  ever  in  his  family,  he  declared,  by  will,  that  to 
whichsoever  of  his  sons  he  should  give  this  ring,  him  he  de- 
signed for  his  heir,  and  that  he  should  be  respected  as  the  head 


GIOVANNI   BOCCACCIO.  .  29 

of  the  family.  The  son  to  whom  the  ring  was  given  made  the 
same  law  with  respect  to  his  descendants,  and  the  ring  passed 
from  one  to  another  in  long  succession,  till  it  came  to  a  person 
who  had  three  sons,  all  virtuous  and  dutiful  to  their  father,  and 
all  equally  beloved  by  him.  Now  the  young  men,  knowing 
what  depended  upon  the  ring,  and  ambitious  of  superiority, 
began  to  entreat  their  father,  who  was  now  grown  old,  every 
one  for  himself,  that  he  would  give  the  ring  to  him.  The  good 
man,  equally  fond  of  all,  was  at  a  loss  which  to  prefer;  and  as 
he  had  promised  all,  and  wished  to  satisfy  all,  he  privately  got 
an  artist  to  make  two  other  rings,  which  were  so  like  the  first 
that  he  himself  scarcely  knew  the  true  one.  When  he  found 
his  end  approaching,  he  secretly  gave  one  ring  to  each  of  his 
sons;  and  they,  after  his  death,  all  claimed  the  honor  and 
estate,  each  disputing  with  his  brothers,  and  producing  his 
ring;  and  the  rings  were  found  so  much  alike  that  the  true  one 
could  not  be  distinguished.  To  law  then  they  went,  as  to 
which  should  succeed,  nor  is  that  question  yet  decided.  And 
thus  it  has  happened,  my  Lord,  with  regard  to  the  three  laws 
given  by  God  the  Father,  concerning  which  you  proposed  your 
question:  every  one  believes  he  is  the  true  heir  of  God,  has  his 
law,  and  obeys  his  commandments;  but  which  is  in  the  right 
is  uncertain,  in  like  manner  as  with  the  rings." 

Saladin  perceived  that  the  Jew  had  very  cleverly  escaped  the 
net  which  was  spread  for  him;  he  therefore  resolved  to  discover 
his  necessity  to  him,  and  see  if  he  would  lend  him  money,  tell- 
ing him  at  the  same  time  what  he  had  designed  to  do,  had  not 
that  discreet  answer  prevented  him.  The  Jew  freely  supplied 
the  monarch  with  what  he  wanted;  and  Saladin  afterwards 
paid  him  back  in  full,  made  him  large  presents,  besides  main- 
taining him  nobly  at  his  court,  and  was  his  friend  as  long  as  he 
lived. 


30  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

FRANCO  SACCHETTI. 

Born  at  Florence  about  1335.  While  a  young  man  he  became  known 
as  a  poet,  and  appears  to  have  traveled  in  the  diplomatic  service  of  the 
republic.  Exempted  from  banishment  with  other  members  of  the  Sac- 
chetti  family  in  1380,  the  remainder  of  his  life  was  passed  in  official  ser- 
vice in  and  about  Florence.  Died  about  the  year  1400.  Chief  literary 
work  the  Novelle. 


cxiv.* 

Dante  Allighieri  makes  sensible  of  their  errors  a  smith  and  an  ass~ 
driver,  who  were  singing  his  book  in  garbled  form. 

That  most  excellent  vernacular  poet,  whose  fame  will  never 
grow  less,  Dante  Allighieri  the  Florentine,  was  neighbor  in 
Florence  to  the  family  of  the  Adimari.  It  came  to  pass  that  a 
certain  young  cavalier  of  that  family  fell  into  difficulty,  I  know 
not  on  account  of  what  offense,  and  was  about  to  come  up  for 
sentence,  in  the  due  course  of  justice,  before  a  certain  magis- 
trate, who  was,  it  seems,  upon  terms  of  friendship  with  Dante. 
He  therefore  besought  the  poet  that  he  should  intercede  for 
him  with  the  magistrate;  and  this  Dante  replied  he  would  will- 
ingly do.  So  when  the  poet  had  dined,  he  left  home  and  set 
out  upon  his  way  to  accomplish  the  business;  but  just  as  he 
was  passing  by  the  gate  of  San  Piero,  a  smith,  hammering  an 
iron  upon  his  anvil,  was  singing  Dante,  as  one  sings  a  ditty, 
jumbling  his  verses  together,  clipping  them  and  adding  to 
them,  in  such  a  manner  that  it  seemed  to  Dante  they  were  suf- 
fering the  greatest  injury.  He  said  nothing,  however,  but  ap- 
proached the  smithy,  where  were  lying  the  various  tools  with 
which  the  owner  plied  his  trade.  Dante  seized  the  hammer 
and  threw  it  into  the  street;  seized  the  tongs  and  threw  them 
into  the  street;  seized  the  balances  and  threw  them  into  the 
street,  and  so  on  with  the  remaining  irons.  The  smith,  turn- 
ing about  with  an  angry  gesture,  cried:  "What  the  devil  are 
you  doing?  Are  you  mad?"  Said  Dante:  "  And  you,  what 
are  you  doing?"  "  Working  at  my  trade,"  the  smith  replied, 
"and  you  are  spoiling  my  tools,  throwing  them  into  the  street." 
Said  Dante:  "If  you  do  not  wish  that  I  should  spoil  your 

*  Le  Novelle  di  Franco  Sacchelli.   Ed.  Eugenio  Camerini.  Milan,  1874. 


FRANCO  SACCHETTI.  31 

things,  do  not  spoil  mine."  "  How  am  I  injuring  you?"  said 
the  smith.  Said  Dante:  "You  sing  my  book,  but  not  as  I 
have  made  it.  I  also  have  a  trade,  and  you  are  spoiling  it  for 
me."  The  smith,  swelling  with  rage,  knew  not  what  to  reply, 
but  gathered  together  his  scatteied  tools  and  returned  to  his 
forge,  and  when  he  wished  again  to  sing,  he  sang  of  Tristan 
and  of  Launcelot,  but  left  Dante  alone ;  and  Dante  went  his 
way  to  the  magistrate.  But  when  he  came  into  the  presence 
of  that  official,  it  occurred  to  him  that  the  cavalier  of  the  Adi- 
mari,  who  had  asked  the  favor  of  him,  was  a  haughty  youth 
with  scant  courtesy,  who,  when  he  went  through  the  city, 
especially  on  horseback,  rode  with  his  legs  outspread,  until 
they  filled  the  street,  if  it  happened  to  be  narrow,  so  that  pass- 
ers-by were  compelled  to  brush  the  toes  of  his  shoes;  and  to 
Dante,  who  was  a  close  observer,  such  behavior  was  always 
displeasing.  Thereupon  Dante  said  to  the  magistrate:  "You 
have  before  your  court  a  certain  cavalier,  charged  with  a  cer- 
tain offense.  I  wish  to  speak  a  word  for  him.  His  manners 
however  are  such  that  he  deserves  a  severe  penalty,  for  I  be- 
lieve that  to  trespass  upon  the  rights  of  the  public  is  the  great- 
est of  offenses."  Dante  did  not  speak  to  deaf  ears,  and  the 
magistrate  asked  in  what  respect  the  young  man  has  trespassed 
upon  the  rights  of  the  public.  Dante  replied:  "When  he  rides 
through  the  city,  he  rides  with  his  legs  wide  from  his  horse,  so 
that  whoever  encounters  him  has  to  turn  back,  and  cannot  con- 
tinue upon  his  way."  Said  the  judge:  "  This  may  appear  to 
you  a  trifle,  but  it  is  a  greater  offence  than  the  other  of  which 
he  is  accused."  "  But  see,"  said  Dante,  "  I  am  his  neighbor. 
I  intercede  for  him  with  you."  And  he  returned  home,  where 
he  was  asked  by  the  cavalier  how  the  affair  stood.  "  He  re- 
plied favorably,"  said  Dante.  Some  days  afterwards  the  cav- 
alier was  summoned  to  appear  and  answer  the  charge  against 
him.  He  made  his  appearance,  and  after  he  had  been  informed 
of  the  nature  of  the  first  charge,  the  judge  ordered  that  the  sec- 
ond charge,  concerning  the  loose  manner  of  his  riding,  be  read 
to  him.  The  cavalier,  feeling  that  the  penalty  would  be 
doubled,  said  to  himself:  "I  have  done  a  fine  thing  indeed, 
when  through  Dante's  visit  I  believed  I  should  go  free,  and 


32  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

now  I  am  to  be  doubly  fined!"  Having  been  dismissed,  ac- 
cused as  he  was,  he  returned  home,  and  finding  Dante,  said: 
"You  have  indeed  done  me  a  good  turn.  Before  you  went  to 
him  the  judge  was  disposed  to  condemn  me  for  one  offense,  and 
after  your  visit  he  wished  to  condemn  me  for  two;"  and  much 
angered  at  Dante,  he  added:  "  If  he  condemns  me  I  am  able  to 
pay,  and  when  it  is  over  I  will  settle  with  him  who  is  the  cause 
of  it."  Said  Dante:  "I  have  given  you  such  a  recommenda- 
tion that  if  you  were  my  own  child  I  could  not  have  given  you 
a  better.  If  the  judge  is  ill-disposed  toward  you,  I  am  not  the 
cause  of  it."  The  cavalier,  shaking  his  head,  went  home.  A 
few  days  afterward  he  was  condemned  to  pay  a  thousand  lire 
for  the  first  offense  and  another  thousand  for  the  careless  rid- 
ing; and  neither  he  nor  any  of  the  house  of  Adimari  were  able 
to  forget  the  injury. 

And  this  was  one  of  the  chief  reasons  that  a  short  time  after 
he  was  driven  as  a  Bianco  from  Florence,  not  without  disgrace 
to  the  city,  and  died  an  exile  in  the  city  of  Ravenna. 

NOVEI,  cxv. 

Dante  Allighieri,  hearing  an  ass- dtiver  sing  his  book  and  say :  "  Arri" 
struck  him,  saying :  "  I  did  not  put  that  there .-"  and  left  him,  as  the  story 
relates. 

The  last  novel  moves  me  to  relate  another  concerning  the 
same  poet,  which  is  brief  and  good.  One  day  as  Dante  was 
going  along  for  his  diversion  in  a  certain  part  of  the  city,  wear- 
ing the  gorget  and  the  armlet,  as  the  custom  then  was,  he 
encountered  an  ass-driver,  driving  before  him  certain  loads  of 
refuse.  The  driver  was  going  behind  his  asses,  singing  the 
book  of  Dante,  and  every  now  and  then  as  he  sang  he  touched 
up  an  ass,  and  said:  "  Arri!"  When  Dante  came  up  to  him 
he  gave  him  a  sharp  blow  upon  the  shoulders  with  his  armlet, 
saying:  "  I  did  not  put  that  '  Arri'  there!"  The  driver  did 
not  know  who  Dante  was,  nor  what  he  meant  to  say,  and  only 
struck  his  asses  the  more  sharply,  and  again  said:  " Arri" 
When  he  had  gone  a  little  further  he  turned  to  Dante,  and, 
thrusting  out  his  tongue  and  putting  his  thumb  to  his  nose, 
said:  "  Take  that."  Dante,  who  saw  him,  said:  "  I  would  not 
give  one  of  mine  for  a  hundred  of  yours." 


FRANCO  SACCHETTI.  33 

O  gentle  words,  full  of  wisdom  !  How  many  there  are  who 
would  have  run  after  the  ass-driver,  crying  and  raising  a  dis- 
turbance; others  again  who  would  have  thrown  stones;  but  the 
wise  poet  overwhelmed  the  ass-driver,  winning  praise  from 
passers-by  that  heard  him  with  those  clever  words  which  he 
hurled  after  so  vile  a  man  as  was  the  ass-driver. 

NOVEL  cxxi. 

Master  Antonio  da  Ferrara,  having  lost  at  hazard  at  Ravenna^  comes 
to  a  church,  where  lay  the  body  of  Dante,  and  taking  the  candles  from 
before  the  crucifix  carried  them  all  and  placed  them  at  the  tomb  of  Dante. 

Master  Antonio  da  Ferrara  was  a  most  able  man,  and  a  poet 
as  well,  and  something  of  a  courtier;  but  he  was  a  man  of  vice 
and  a  sinner.  Being  in  Ravenna  at  the  time  when  Bernardino 
da  Polenta  held  the  signory,  it  happened  that  the  said  Antonio, 
who  was  a  great  gamester,  having  played  one  day  and  lost 
about  all  that  he  possessed,  in  desperate  mood  entered  the 
church  of  the  Minorites,  where  stands  the  tomb  of  the  Floren- 
tine poet,  Dante;  and  having  noticed  an  antique  crucifix,  half 
burned  and  black  with  smoke,  on  account  of  the  great  quantity 
of  lights  which  had  been  placed  before  it;  seeing,  moreover, 
that  many  candles  stood  there  lighted,  he  suddenly  ran  to  the 
place,  and  seizing  all  the  candles  and  tapers  that  were  burning 
there,  turned  to  the  tomb  of  Dante  and  placed  them  before  it, 
saying:  "  Take  them,  for  you  are  indeed  more  worthy  of  them 
than  He."  The  people  seeing  this  were  full  of  amazement, 
and  said,  "  What  does  he  mean  to  say  ?"  and  they  gazed  one  at 
another.  A  steward  of  the  signory,  who  happened  to  be  in  the 
church  at  that  hour  and  witnessed  what  transpired,  when  he 
had  returned  to  the  palace,  told  the  Signore  what  he  had  seen 
master  Antonio  do.  The  Signore,  like  all  the  others  favorably 
impressed  with  the  deed,  communicated  to  the  Archbishop  of 
Ravenna  what  master  Antonio  had  done,  suggesting  that  he 
should  summon  him,  and  make  a  show  of  instituting  a  process 
against  him  as  a  heretic,  on  the  ground  of  heretical  depravity. 
The  Archbishop  immediately  did  as  he  was  requested;  Antonio 
appeared,  and  when  the  complaint  against  him  was  read  in  order 
that  he  might  refute  it,  he  denied  nothing  but  confessed  all, 


34  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

saying  to  the  Archbishop:  "  Even  if  you  should  be  compelled 
to  burn  me,  I  should  say  nothing  else;  for  I  have  always  com- 
mended myself  to  the  crucifix,  and  it  has  never  done  me  any- 
thing but  ill,  and  when  I  saw  them  place  so  many  candles 
before  it,  half  burned  as  it  was  (would  it  were  wholly  so  !),  I 
took  away  a  few  lights  and  placed  them  at  the  tomb  of  Dante, 
who  seemed  to  me  to  merit  them  more  than  the  crucifix;  and 
if  you  do  not  believe  me,  look  at  the  writings  of  one  and  the 
other.  You  will  conclude  that  those  of  Dante  are  a  wonder  of 
nature  and  of  the  human  intellect;  and  that  the  gospels  are 
stupid;  and  indeed,  if  they  contain  anything  high  and  wonder- 
ful, it  is  not  surprising,  that  he  who  sees  everything  and  has 
everything,  should  so  express  himself.  But  that  which  is  re- 
markable is,  that  a  mere  man,  like  Dante,  who  not  only  has 
not  everything,  but  no  part  of  everything,  has  nevertheless 
seen  all  and  has  written  all.  And,  indeed,  it  seems  to  me  that 
he  is  more  worthy  of  the  illumination  than  the  other;  and 
henceforward  I  am  going  to  recommend  myself  to  him;  as  for 
the  rest  of  you,  you  perform  your  functions  and  look  well  to 
your  comfort,  and  for  love  of  it  you  flee  all  discomfort  and  live 
like  poltroons.  And  when  you  wish  to  understand  me  more 
nearly,  I  will  tell  you  about  it  again,  for  I  have  not  yet  played 
my  last  coin."  The  archbishop  appeared  to  be  perplexed  and 
said:  "  Then  you  have  played  and  you  have  lost  ?  You  shall  re- 
turn another  time."  Said  master  Antonio:  "  If  you  too  had  lost, 
you  and  all  your  kind,  all  that  you  have,  I  should  be  very  glad 
of  it.  As  for  returning  to  you,  that  will  be  my  affair;  but 
whether  I  return  or  not,  you  will  find  me  always  so  disposed 
or  worse."  The  archbishop  said:  "Go  hence  with  God,  or  if 
you  please,  with  the  Devil,  and  unless  I  send  for  you  we  shall 
not  see  each  other  again.  At  least  go  and  give  of  these  fruits 
to  the  Signore  which  you  have  given  to  me."  And  so  they 
parted.  The  Signore,  informed  of  what  had  taken  place  and 
amused  with  the  reasoning  of  Master  Antonio,  made  him  a 
present,  that  he  might  be  able  to  go  on  gaming;  and  as  for  the 
candles  placed  before  Dante,  he  took  great  pleasure  in  them  for 
several  days;  and  then  he  went  away  to  Ferrara,  perhaps  better 
disposed  than  Master  Antonio.  At  the  time  when  Pope  Urban 


FRANCO  SACCHETTI.  35 

the  Fifth  died  and  his  portrait  was  placed  in  a  noble  church  in 
a  certain  great  city,  he  saw  placed  in  front  of  it  a  lighted  wax 
candle  of  two  pounds  weight,  while  before  the  crucifix,  which 
was  not  very  large,  was  a  poor  little  penny  dip.  He  took  the 
wax  candle,  and  placing  it  in  front  of  the  crucifix,  said:  "  It  is 
an  evil  hour  when  we  wish  to  shift  and  change  the  rulership  of 
the  skies,  as  we  change  everywhere  the  powers  of  earth."  And 
with  this  he  turned  homeward.  Such  a  fine  and  notable  speech 
was  this  as  seldom  might  happen  upon  a  like  occasion. 

NOVEL  ccxvi. 

Master  Alberto  della  Magna,  arriving  at  an  inn  on  the  Po,  made  him 
a  fish  out  of  wood,  with  which  he  caught  as  many  fish  as  he  wished.  This 
the  host  lost  after  a  time  and  went  to  seek  master  Alberto,  in  order  that 
he  might  make  him  another,  but  was  unable  to  obtain  this  favor. 

I  am  about  to  commence  some  other  novels,  and  first  of  all  I 
shall  relate  one  concerning  a  most  able  and  holy  man,  whose 
name  was  master  Alberto  della  Magna,  who,  while  passing 
through  a  certain  district  of  lyombardy,  arrived  one  evening  at 
a  village  on  the  Po,  which  is  called  the  Villa  di  Santo  Alberto. 
Kntering  into  the  house  of  a  poor  inn-keeper,  where  he  thought 
to  sup  and  pass  the  night,  he  saw  many  nets,  with  which  the 
owner  was  accustomed  to  fish,  and  furthermore  he  noted  many 
female  children:  whereupon  he  asked  the  host  concerning  his 
condition;  how  he  was  prospering  and  if  these  were  his  daugh- 
ters. To  which  the  inn-keeper  replied:  "My  Father,  I  am 
very  poor  and  have  seven  daughters;  and  if  it  was  not  for  my 
fishing  I  should  die  of  hunger."  Then  master  Alberto  asked 
him  how  great  was  his  catch.  And  he  replied:  "  Indeed,  I  do 
not  catch  as  many  as  I  need,  and  I  am  not  very  fortunate  in 
this  business."  Then  master  Alberto,  before  he  left  the  inn  on 
the  following  morning,  fashioned  a  fish  out  of  wood,  and  called 
the  host  to  him  and  said:  "Take  this  fish,  and  tie  it  to  your 
net  when  you  cast,  and  you  will  always  catch  a  great  quantity 
of  fish  with  it,  and  perhaps  there  will  be  so  many  that  they 
will  be  a  great  help  to  you  in  marrying  off  your  daughters." 
The  poor  host  hearing  this,  accepted  the  gift  very  willingly, 
and  rendered  thanks  most  profusely  to  the  wise  man;  and  so  he 


36  SOURCE- BOOK   OF  THE  ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

departed  that  morning  from  the  inn,  going  on  his  journey  to 
La  Magna.  The  host,  left  in  possession  of  the  fish,  and  desir- 
ous to  put  its  virtues  to  the  proof,  went  the  same  day  fishing; 
so  great  a  multitude  of  fish  were  drawn  to  the  bait  and  entered 
into  the  nets  that  he  was  scarcely  able  to  draw  them  from  the 
water  and  carry  them  home.  His  good  luck  continued;  he  did 
so  well  that  from  a  poor  man  he  became  rich,  to  such  a  degree 
that  in  a  short  time  he  had  married  off  all  his  daughters.  It 
came  about,  however,  that  fortune,  envious  of  such  prosperity, 
brought  it  to  pass  that  one  day,  as  he  was  drawing  his  net  with 
a  great  number  of  fish,  the  cord  that  bound  the  wooden  fish 
broke,  and  the  fish  was  swept  away  down  the  Po,  so  that  he 
was  never  able  to  recover  it,  wherefore  if  ever  there  was  one 
who  grieved  over  an  adverse  circumstance  it  was  he,  bewailing 
his  misfortune  with  all  his  might.  And  when  he  sought  to 
fish  without  the  fish  of  wood,  it  came  to  naught;  he  could  not 
catch  one  out  of  a  thousand.  Wherefore  lamenting:  "What 
shall  I  do  ?  what  shall  I  say  ?' '  he  finally  concluded  to  set  forth, 
and  never  to  rest  until  he  arrived  at  La  Magna,  at  the  house  of 
master  Alberto;  and  to  ask  of  him  as  a  favor  to  restore  the  lost 
fish.  And  so  he  never  halted  until  he  came  where  master  Al- 
berto was;  and  here  with  the  greatest  reverence  and  with  weep- 
ing he  knelt  and  related  the  benefits  he  had  received  from  him ; 
what  an  infinite  number  of  fish  he  had  caught  and  how,  the 
cord  being  broken,  the  fish  had  gone  down  the  Po,  and  had 
been  lost.  Moreover  he  besought  his  holiness,  that  for  their 
welfare  and  out  of  pity  for  himself  and  his  daughters,  he  should 
make  him  another  fish  in  order  that  he  might  restore  to  him 
that  favor  which  he  had  once  conferred  upon  him.  Master  Al- 
berto turned  to  him  and  with  a  voice  full  of  sorrow  said:  "  My 
child,  I  should  be  very  glad  if  I  were  able  to  do  that  which  you 
ask;  but  I  cannot,  for  I  must  let  you  know  that  when  I  made 
you  the  fish  which  I  gave  you,  the  heavens  and  all  the  planets 
were  at  that  hour  so  disposed  as  to  confer  especial  virtue  upon 
the  fish;  and  if  you  and  I  presume  to  say,  that  this  point  and 
this  conjunction  may  return,  when  another  might  be  made  with 
equal  virtue,  clearly  and  surely  this  cannot  happen  from  now 
on  for  thirty-six  thousand  years:  so  that  you  can  see  if  it  be 


FRANCO  SACCHETTI.  37 

possible  to  reproduce  what  once  I  made."  Having  listened  for 
a  while,  the  inn-keeper  commenced  to  weep  bitterly,  bewailing 
loudly  his  misfortune,  saying:  "  If  I  had  known  this,  I  should 
have  bound  it  with  a  wire,  and  held  it  so  firmly  that  I  never 
should  have  lost  it."  Then  master  Alberto  answered:  "  Child, 
be  still,  for  you  are  not  the  first  man  that  has  not  known  how 
to  retain  his  luck,  which  God  has  sent ;  but  there  have  been 
many  and  abler  men  than  you  who  not  only  have  not  under- 
stood how  to  use  the  small  opportunity  which  you  have  used, 
but  have  not  even  known  how  to  sieze  it  when  it  has  been  put 
before  them."  So  after  much  conversation,  and  with  such 
consolation,  the  poor  inn-keeper  departed  and  returned  to  his 
meagre  life,  still  gazing  out  upon  the  Po,  if  perchance  he  might 
see  his  lost  fish.  But  he  might  look  well,  for  it  was  perhaps 
already  in  the  greater  sea,  with  many  fish  about  it,  and  with  it 
neither  man  nor  fortune.  And  thus  he  lived  what  time  pleased 
God,  lamenting  to  himself  the  lost  fish,  so  that  it  would  have 
been  much  better  if  he  had  never  seen  it.  So  it  happens  every 
day  that  fortune  shows  herself  propitious,  only  to  see  who  has 
the  wit  to  seize  her;  and  often  times  he  who  best  knows  how 
to  lay  hold  upon  her,  derives  no  benefit  thereby  ;  and  many 
times  it  comes  to  pass  that  he  who  knows  not  how  to  seize 
upon  her  ever  afterwards  laments  and  lives  miserable,  saying  : 
11 1  could  have  such  and  such  a  thing,  but  would  not."  Others 
seize  upon  her,  but  understand  how  to  hold  her  only  a  short 
time  as  did  this  inn-keeper.  But  taking  all  our  happenings 
together,  he  who  fails  to  seize  the  opportunity  which  time  and 
fortune  offers,  when  he  bethinks  himself  he  looks  again  and 
finds  it  not,  unless  he  waits  thirty-six  thousand  years,  as  said 
our  wise  man,  which  saying  seems  to  me  to  be  in  conformity 
with  that  which  certain  philosophers  have  already  said,  that 
six  and  thirty  thousand  years  from  now  the  world  will  turn 
into  that  disposition  which  it  has  at  present.  There  have  been 
already  in  my  day  those  who  have  left  their  property  so  that 
their  children  were  unable  to  sell  or  pledge  it,  wherefore  it 
appears  to  me  that  they  hold  to  this  opinion,  that  they  may 
find  their  own  when  they  return  at  the  end  of  six  and  thirty 
thousand  years. 


38  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE  ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

POGG10  BRACCIOLINL 

Born  at  Terranova,  in  the  teriitory  of  Florence.  1380.  Studied  Latin 
under  John  of  Ravenna,  and  Greek  under  Manuel  Chrysoloras.  An  able 
copyist,  be  was  received  into  the  service  of  the  Roman  curia  about  1402. 
Here  he  served  as  secretary  for  a  period  of  fifty  years.  Poggio  acquired 
fame  as  a  discoverer  of  classical  manuscripts.  In  1452,  returned  to  Flor- 
ence, and  the  following  year  was  made  chancellor  and  historiographer 
to  the  republic.  Died  here  in  1459.  Chief  works  are  a  History  of  Flor- 
ence, the  Facetiae  and  various  moral  essays. 

EXTRACTS  FROM  THE  FACETIAE.* 

XVII.  Concerning  a  tailor  of  Visconti,  by  manner  of  comparison . 
Pope  Martin  had  charged  Antonio  Lusco  with  the  prepara- 
tion of  a  letter.  After  having  read  the  same  he  ordered  him 
to  submit  it  to  one  of  my  friends,  in  whom  he  had  the  greatest 
confidence.  This  friend,  who  was  at  the  table  and  a  little 
warmed  with  wine,  perhaps,  disapproved  of  the  letter  com- 
pletely and  said  that  it  ought  to  be  re-written.  Here  Antonio 
said  to  Bartholomew  de'  Bardi,  who  happened  to  be  present : 
"I  will  correct  my  letter  in  the  same  way  that  the  tailor 
widened  the  breeches  of  Gian  Galeazzo  Visconti ;  to-morrow, 
before  dinner,  I  will  return  and  the  letter  will  be  satisfactory." 
Bartholomew  asked  him  what  he  meant  by  that.  "Gian 
Galeazzo  Visconti,  father  of  the  elder  Duke  of  Milan,"  said 
Antonio,  "was  a  man  of  high  stature,  and  excessively  corpu- 
lent. One  day,  when  he  had  lined  his  stomach,  as  frequently 
happened,  with  an  abundance  of  food  and  drink,  and  betaken 
himself  to  bed,  he  summoned  his  tailor  and  overwhelmed  him 
with  reproaches,  charging  him  with  having  made  his  breeches 
too  narrow,  and  ordering  him  to  enlarge  them  in  such  a  way 
that  they  would  no  longer  inconvenience  him.  '  It  shall  be 
done,'  replied  the  tailor,  '  according  to  your  desire;  to-morrow 
morning  this  garment  will  fit  you  to  perfection.'  The  tailor 
took  the  breeches  and  hung  them  upon  a  peg  without  chang- 
ing them  in  the  least.  Somebody  said  to  him  :  '  Why  don't 
you  widen  this  garment  which  the  great  belly  of  Monsignor 

*  Les  Factlies  de  Pogge  Traduites  en  Frantais,  avec  le  Texte  Latin. 
2  v.  Paris,  1878. 


POGGIO    BRACCIOLINI.  39 

filled  to  bursting? '  '  To-morrow/  said  the  tailor,  '  when  Mon- 
signor  rises,  his  digestion  finished,  the  breeches  will  be  quite 
large  enough  for  him.'  Next  morning  he  returned  with  the 
breeches  and  Visconti,  drawing  them  on,  remarked  :  '  Now 
you  see  they  fit  me  perfectly;  they  no  longer  bind  me  any- 
where.' And  in  the  same  way  will  the  letter  please,"  Antonio 
said,  "when  once  the  wine  has  been  slept  away." 

XX.  Exhortations  of  a  cardinal  to  the  soldiers  of  the  Pope. 
It  was  in  Piceno,  during  the  war  which  the  Cardinal  of  Spain 
waged  against  the  enemies  of  the  Pope.  The  two  armies  found 
themselves  face  to  face,  and  it  was  necessary  that  the  partisans 
of  the  Pope  should  once  for  all  conquer  or  be  conquered.  The 
Cardinal  encouraged  the  soldiers  to  fight  with  fair  words:  he 
swore  that  those  who  fell  in  the  battle  should  sup  with  God 
and  with  the  angels;  that  all  their  sins  should  be  forgiven; 
hoping  by  these  means  to  spur  them  on  to  give  themselves  to 
death.  Having  come  to  the  end  of  his  promises,  he  was  retir- 
ing from  the  fray,  when  one  of  the  soldiers  said  to  him:  "  How 
about  you?  don't  you  want  to  sup  with  ustco?"  "No,"  he 
replied,  "  this  is  not  my  hour  for  supper;  I  am  not  hungrj'." 

XXII.  Concerning  a  priest  who,  instead  of  priestly  vestments,  carried 
capons  to  his  bishop. 

A  bishop  of  Arezzo,  Angelo  by  name,  an  acquaintance  of 
ours,  convoked  one  day  his  clergy  for  a  synod,  and  ordered  all 
who  were  clothed  with  any  dignity  whatsoever  to  set  out  upon 
the  journey  with  the  priestly  habits,  or,  as  they  say  in  Italian, 
with  cappe  e  cotte.  A  certain  priest  who  did  not  possess  these 
vestments,  reflected  sadly  to  himself,  not  knowing  how  he 
might  procure  them.  His  housekeeper,  seeing  him  thoughtful 
with  downcast  head,  asked  the  reason  of  his  grief.  He  replied 
that,  according  to  the  orders  of  the  bishop,  it  was  necessary  to 
go  to  the  synod  with  cappe  e  cotte.  "  But,  my  good  man,"  re- 
plied the  housekeeper,  "  you  have  not  grasped  the  meaning  of 
this  order:  Monsignor  does  not  demand  cafipe  e  cotte,  but  rather 
capponi  cotti ;  that  is  what  you  must  take  him."  The  priest 
followed  the  woman's  advice.  He  carried  along  cooked  capons, 
and  was  exceedingly  well  received.  The  bishop  went  so  far  as 


40  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

to  say,  with  a  smile,  that  he  alone,  among  all  his  brethren,  had 
comprehended  the  true  sense  of  the  command. 

XXXVI.  Concerning  a  priest  who  gave  burial  to  a  pet  dog. 

There  was  in  Tuscany  a  wealthy  country  priest.  He  lost  a 
little  dog,  of  which  he  was  very  fond,  and  buried  him  in  the 
churchyard.  This  came  to  the  ears  of  the  bishop,  who, 
coveting  the  priest's  money,  summoned  him  for  punishment, 
as  if  he  had  committed  a  great  crime.  The  parish  priest,  who 
understood  his  bishop  quite  well,  presented  himself  before  his 
superior  with  fifty  golden  ducats.  The  prelate  reproached  him 
sternly  with  having  given  burial  to  a  dog,  and  ordered  him  to 
be  thrown  into  prison.  "O  father,"  replied  the  cunning 
fellow,  "if  you  only  knew  the  wisdom  of  that  little  dog,  you 
would  not  wonder  that  he  deserved  burial  along  with  human 
beings.  His  intelligence  was  more  than  human  in  his  lifetime, 
and  especially  at  the  moment  of  his  death."  "What  do  you 
mean  by  that  ?"  asked  the  bishop.  "  At  the  close  of  his  life," 
the  priest  continued,  "he  made  his  will,  and,  knowing  that 
you  were  needy,  he  left  you  fifty  golden  ducats.  Here  they 
are."  The  bishop  then  approved  the  will  and  burial,  pocketed 
the  money  and  dismissed  the  priest. 

L  V.  A  story  of  Mancini. 

Mancini,  a  peasant  of  my  village,  used  to  carry  grain  to 
Figlino  upon  a  drove  of  asses,  which  he  hired  for  the  purpose. 
One  time,  as  he  was  returning  from  market,  tired  with  the 
journey,  he  mounted  upon  the  best  of  the  animals.  As  he 
approached  home  he  counted  the  asses  ambling  along  before 
him,  and,  forgetting  the  one  upon  which  he  was  riding,  imag- 
ined that  one  of  them  was  lacking.  Greatly  agitated,  he  left 
the  asses  with  his  wife,  telling  her  to  return  them  to  their  own- 
ers, and  returned  to  the  market,  more  than  seven  miles  away, 
without  dismounting.  On  the  way  he  inquired  of  every 
passer-by  if  he  had  not  seen  a  stray  ass.  Each  one  replied  that 
he  had  not.  At  night  he  returned  home  sad  and  totally  dis- 
couraged at  having  lost  an  ass.  Finally,  upon  his  wife's 
entreaty,  he  dismounted  and  discovered  that  which  he  had 
sought  with  so  great  pains. 


POGGIO   BRACCIOUNI.  41 

L  VII.  Ingenious  retort  of  Dante,  the  Florentine  poet. 
Dante  Allighieri,  our  Florentine  poet,  received  for  some  time 
at  Verona  the  hospitality  of  the  elder  Cane  della  Scala,  a  most 
generous  prince.  Cane  had  ever  in  his  company  another 
Florentine,  a  man  without  birth,  learning  or  tact,  who  was 
good  for  nothing  but  to  laugh  and  play  the  fool.  His  silly 
jokes,  for  they  were  not  worthy  the  name  of  wit,  so  pleased 
Cane  that  he  made  him  rich  presents.  Dante,  a  man  of  the 
greatest  learning,  modest  as  he  was  wise,  regarded  this  person 
as  a  stupid  beast,  as  he  had  reason  to.  "  How  does  it  come  to 
pass,"  said  one  day  the  Florentine  to  Dante,  "that  you  are 
poor  and  needy,  you  who  pass  for  learned  and  wise,  while  I  am 
rich,  I  who  am  stupid  and  ignorant?"  "When  I  shall  find," 
replied  Dante,  "a  master  like  myself,  and  whose  tastes  are 
similar  to  my  own,  as  you  have  found  one,  then  he  will  enrich 
me  too."  Excellent  and  just  reply;  for  the  great  are  ever 
pleased  with  the  company  of  their  like. 

L  VIII.     Witty  reply  of  the  same  poet. 

Dante  was  one  time  at  the  table  between  the  elder  and  the 
younger  of  the  Cani  della  Scala.  In  order  to  put  the  joke  upon 
him  the  attendants  of  the  two  lords  threw  stealthily  all  the 
bones  at  the  feet  of  Dante.  On  arising  from  the  table  the 
whole  company  turned  toward  Dante,  astonished  to  see  so  great 
a  quantity  of  bones  at  his  place.  But  he,  quick  to  take  ad- 
vantage of  the  situation,  said  :  "Surely  it  is  nothing  to  wonder 
at  if  the  Dogs  have  eaten  their  bones.  I  myself  am  no  dog." 

LX.  Concerning  a  man  who  searched  for  his  drowned  wife  in  the  river. 
Another  man,  whose  wife  was  drowned,  searched  for  her 
body  up  the  stream.  A  passer-by,  much  surprised,  said  to  him 
that  he  ought  to  search  for  her  down  the  current.  "  I  should 
never  find  her  that  way,"  replied  the  man.  "  She  was,  when 
living,  so  stubborn  and  self-willed,  and  so  contrary  in  her 
habits,  that  even  after  death  she  would  never  have  been  will- 
ing to  float  except  against  the  stream." 

LXXl.  Concerning  a  shepherd  who  made  an  incomplete  confession. 
A  shepherd  of  that  part  of  the  kingdom  of  Naples  where 


42  SOURCE-BOOK   OF   THE    ITALIAN    RENAISSANCE. 

brigandage  is  a  profession,  came  once  to  seek  a  confessor,  to 
whom  he  might  relate  his  sins.  Kneeling  at  the  priest's  feet 
in  tears,  he  said:  "Pardon  me,  father,  for  I  have  sinned 
deeply."  The  priest  urged  him  to  confess  all,  but  he  hesitated 
for  a  long  time,  like  a  man  who  had  committed  some  horrible 
crime.  Finally,  as  the  confessor  urged  him,  he  said:  "One 
fast-day,  as  I  was  making  cheese,  some  drops  of  milk  from  the 
curd  which  I  was  pressing  flew  into  my  mouth,  and  I  neglected 
to  spit  them  out. ' '  The  priest,  who  knew  the  customs  of  the 
neighborhood,  smiled  when  he  heard  this  man  accuse  himself 
of  having  failed  to  observe  the  fast,  as  if  it  were  a  great  sin, 
and  asked  him  if  there  were  not  some  other  misdeeds  upon  his 
conscience.  The  shepherd  said  there  were  not.  "  Have  you 
not,  you  and  your  comrades,  robbed  or  assassinated  any  trav- 
eler, as  so  often  happens  in  your  neighborhood?"  "  O,  as  for 
that, ' '  replied  the  other,  ' '  I  have  killed  and  robbed  more  than 
one  of  them,  I  and  my  friends;  but  that  happens  so  often  with 
us  that  nobody  attaches  any  importance  to  it."  The  confessor 
had  difficulty  in  making  him  understand  that  these  were  two 
grave  crimes.  The  shepherd,  unable  to  believe  that  murder 
and  robbery,  which  were  habitual  occurrences  in  his  country, 
could  be  productive  of  serious  results,  desired  absolution  only 
for  the  milk  which  he  had  drunk.  Sad  result  of  the  habit  of 
sin ,  which  causes  the  greatest  crimes  to  be  regarded  as  trivial 
occurrences. 

LXXV.  Concerning  the  Duke  of  Anjou,  who  showed  to  Ridolfo  a  rich 

treasure. 

They  were  censuring,  in  a  group  of  learned  men,  the  foolish 
anxiety  of  those  who  give  themselves  so  many  pains  and  so 
much  labor  in  searching  for  and  in  buying  precious  stones. 
' '  Ridolfo  da  Camerina, ' '  said  one  of  the  company,  ' '  very 
cleverly  chided  the  stupidity  of  the  Duke  of  Anjou,  on  his  de- 
parture for  the  kingdom  of  Naples.  Ridolfo  had  come  to  see 
him  in  his  camp;  the  Duke  showed  him  objects  of  great  cost, 
and  amongst  others,  pearls,  sapphires,  carbuncles  and  other 
stones  of  immense  value.  After  having  looked  at  them,  Ri- 
dolfo asked  what  these  stones  were  worth  and  of  what  good 
they  were.  The  Duke  replied  that  their  cost  was  enormous, 


POGGIO    BRACCIOLINI.  43 

and  that  they  produced  nothing.  "  Indeed,"  said  Ridolfo,  "  I 
will  show  you,  myself,  two  stones  which  have  cost  me  ten 
florins,  and  which  bring  me  in  two  hundred  yearly."  The 
Duke  was  astonished;  Ridolfo  conducted  him  to  a  mill  which 
he  had  caused  to  be  built,  and  showed  him  a  pair  of  mill  stones: 
"Behold,"  he  said,  "those  which  surpass  in  usefulness  and 
profit  all  your  precious  stones. ' ' 

CXXIV,  Pleasantry  at  the  expense  of  an  envoy  from  Perugia. 

At  the  time  when  the  Florentines  were  at  war  with  Pope 
Gregory,  the  people  of  Perugia,  who  had  deserted  the  party  of 
the  sovereign  pontiff"  for  those  of  Florence,  sent  to  that  city 
certain  ambassadors  to  demand  aid.  One  of  them,  who  was  a 
Doctor,  began  a  long  discourse,  and  at  the  start,  as  an  intro- 
duction to  the  matter  in  hand,  pronounced  these  words:  "Date 
nobis  de  oleo  vestro. ' '  Another  of  the  party,  a  humorous  fellow, 
who  detested  such  circumlocutions,  interrupted  him:  "What 
is  this  about  oil?"  he  cried.  "You  ask  for  oil  when  it  is 
soldiers  that  we  are  in  need  of.  Have  you  forgotten  that  we 
have  come  here  to  ask  for  arms,  and  not  oil?"  "But  these 
are  the  very  words  of  the  Scripture, ' '  replied  the  Doctor.  ' '  A 
fine  reason  for  their  use, ' '  retorted  the  other.  ' '  We  are  the 
enemies  of  the  church,  and  you  call  the  Holy  Scriptures  to  our 
aid  !"  The  humor  of  this  man  caused  the  whole  company  to 
laugh;  the  flow  of  useless  words  which  the  Doctor  had  pre- 
pared was  cut  short,  and  they  came  at  once  to  the  point  of  the 
negotiation. 

(.  XXV.  Concerning  the  Ambassadors  from  Perugia  to  Pope  Urban. 

The  people  of  Perugia  had  also  sent  three  ambassadors  to 
Pope  Urban  V.  at  Avignon.  On  their  arrival  the  pope  hap- 
pened to  be  severely  ill;  however,  in  order  not  to  keep  them 
too  long  in  suspense,  he  gave  orders  that  they  should  be  intro- 
duced, but  requesting  in  advance  that  they  should  present  their 
affairs  in  as  brief  a  manner  as  possible.  One  of  them,  a  grave 
Doctor,  during  the  journey  had  committed  to  memory  a  long 
discourse  with  which  he  intended  to  address  the  pontiff";  and, 
disregarding  utterly  the  fact  that  his  Holiness  was  sick  and 
confined  to  his  bed,  he  set  himself  to  speaking  at  such  length 
that  the  Holy  Father,  at  various  intervals,  betrayed  the  annoy- 


44  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

ance  which  he  felt.  When  the  thoughtless  individual  had 
come  at  length  to  the  end  of  his  oration,  Urban  asked  the 
others,  with  his  usual  courtesy,  if  they  had  anything  to  add. 
One  of  the  ambassadors,  who  was  sensible  of  the  stupidity  of 
his  colleague  and  of  the  annoyance  of  the  pope  as  well,  there- 
upon said:  "  Most  Holy  Father,  our  orders  read  expressly 
that  if  you  do  not  consent  at  once  to  our  request  we  shall  not 
retire  until  our  colleague  has  repeated  his  discourse."  This 
pleasantry  caused  the  sovereign  pontiff  to  smile,  and  he  gave 
orders  that  their  business  should  receive  immediate  attention. 

CCXXX,  How  a  loud  preacher  was  put  to  shame, 
A  religious,  who  preached  often,  had  the  habit  of  crying 
very  loud,  as  some  fools  do.  One  of  the  women  who  were 
present  began  to  weep  at  the  sound  of  these  formidable  out- 
bursts, so  that  finally  the  religious  noticed  her.  Persuaded 
that  it  was  his  sermon  which  had  recalled  to  this  woman's 
mind  the  love  of  God,  moved  her  conscience  and  brought  her 
to  tears,  he  summoned  her  to  him  and  asked  of  her  the  cause 
of  her  groans;  whether  perchance  it  might  be  his  words  that 
had  moved  her  and  caused  her  to  melt  into  pious  tears,  as  he 
believed.  The  woman  replied  to  the  preacher  that  she  was 
profoundly  moved  and  saddened  by  his  cries,  and  by  the  sound 
of  his  voice.  "I  am  a  widow,"  she  said,  "and  my  late 
lamented  left  me  an  ass,  by  the  labor  of  which  I  have  managed 
to  subsist.  This  ass  had  the  habit  of  braying  night  and  day, 
like  your  worship;  but  it  is  dead,  and  now  I  am  miserable, 
without  the  means  of  living.  So,  when  I  heard  you  speak  so 
loud  and  with  a  voice  that  seemed  to  me  in  every  way  like  that 
of  my  ass,  the  thought  of  the  poor  beast  made  me  weep  in  spite 
of  myself. ' '  So  was  put  to  shame  the  stupidity  of  this  preacher, 
who  merited  rather  the  name  of  brayer. 

DESCRIPTION  BY  POGGIO  THE  FLORENTINE  OF  THE  DEATH  AND  PUNISH- 
MENT OF  JEROME  OF  PRAGUE.* 

Poggio  to  Leonardo  Aretino,  S.  P.  D. 
When  for  several  days  I  was  staying  at  the  baths  I  wrote 

*  Ortwin  Gratius:  Fasciculus  Rerum,  etc.     Ed.  Brown.     London,  1690. 
Vol.  1  ,  pp.  170  174. 


POGGIO   BRACCIOUNI.  45 

thence  a  letter  to  our  Nicholas  which  I  suppose  you  will  read. 
When  I  returned  to  Constance,  or  a  few  days  later,  the  case  of 
Jerome  was  taken  up,  whom  they  call  a  heretic,  and  indeed 
publicly.  I  have  determined  to  review  this  case  for  you,  both 
because  of  its  importance,  and  more  particularly  on  account  of 
the  eloquence  and  learning  of  the  man.  I  confess  that  I  have 
never  seen  any  one,  who  in  a  matter  of  pleading,  involving  life 
or  death,  came  so  near  the  eloquence  of  the  ancients,  whom  we 
so  greatly  admire.  It  was  wonderful  to  see  with  what  words, 
with  what  eloquence,  with  what  arguments,  with  what  coun- 
tenance, with  what  language  and  with  what  confidence  he 
replied  to  his  adversaries,  and  how  justly  he  put  his  case:  so 
that  it  is  impossible  not  to  regret  that  so  noble  and  prominent 
a  genius  should  be  diverted  to  the  interests  of  heresy,  if  indeed 
those  things  are  true,  which  are  charged  against  him.  For  I 
have  no  disposition  to  pass  judgment  upon  such  a  case:  I  leave 
that  to  be  determined  by  those  who  are  held  to  be  more  expert. 
Nor  do  I  intend  to  give  a  detailed  report  of  the  case  after  the 
manner  of  court  reporters;  it  would  be  too  long,  and  the  work 
of  many  days.  I  shall  touch  upon  certain  of  the  more  import- 
ant points,  in  which  you  may  observe  the  learning  of  the  man. 
Although  many  things  had  been  brought  against  this  Jerome, 
which  seemed  to  indicate  the  existence  of  heresy,  and  these 
were  confirmed  by  the  testimony  of  witnesses;  yet  it  pleased 
the  assembly  that  he  should  reply  publicly  to  those  charges 
one  by  one  which  had  been  brought  against  him.  So  he  was 
led  into  the  assembly,  and  when  he  was  ordered  to  reply  to 
these  things  he  still  refused,  saying  that  he  ought  to  be  allowed 
to  state  his  own  case,  rather  than  to  reply  to  the  slanders  of 
his  adversaries.  In  the  same  way  he  asserted  that  he  ought 
first  to  be  heard  upon  his  own  behalf,  and  later  he  might  take 
up  the  calumnies  which  his  adversaries  had  directed  against 
himself.  But  when  this  concession  was  denied  him,  still  stand- 
ing in  the  midst  of  the  assembly,  he  said:  "  How  great  a  wrong 
is  this,  that  while  for  three  hundred  and  forty  days  I  have 
languished  in  strictest  confinement,  in  squalor  and  filth, 
shackled  and  deprived  of  everything,  you  have  constant^  given 
audience  to  my  opponents  and  detractors,  and  yet  refuse  to 


46  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THB  ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

hear  me  one  single  hour.  Hence  it  follows,  that  while  the  ears 
of  each  of  you  have  been  open  to  these  things,  and  after  so 
long  a  time,  they  have  persuaded  you  that  I  am  a  heretic,  an 
enemy  of  the  faith,  a  persecutor  of  the  clergy,  yet  to  me  no 
opportunity  is  given  for  defending  myself.  If  you  have  pre- 
judged me  in  your  minds  an  evil  man,  how  will  you  be  able  to 
determine  what  I  really  am  ?  And  (he  said)  you  are  men,  not 
gods;  not  immortal,  but  mortal,  liable  to  fall  into  error,  to  mis- 
take, to  be  deceived,  duped  and  led  astray.  In  this  gathering 
are  said  to  be  the  lights  of  the  world,  the  wiser  ones  of  earth. 
Most  of  all  it  becomes  you  then  to  take  great  pains,  lest  anything 
be  done  inconsiderately  or  unadvisedly  or  against  justice.  For 
my  part  I  am  a  human  being,  whose  life  is  in  the  balance;  but  I 
say  these  things  not  for  my  own  sake,  who  am  but  mortal.  It 
seems  to  me  unworthy  of  your  wisdom  to  set  against  me  so  many 
men  in  violation  of  all  justice,  and  a  thing  likely  to  be  harmful 
not  so  much  in  this  instance  as  by  example. ' '  These  and  many 
things  beside  he  said  most  elegantly,  interrupted  in  his  speech 
with  the  noise  and  murmurings  of  many  present.  Then  it  was 
decreed  that  he  should  reply  first  to  the  errors  which  were 
urged  against  him;  and  that  afterwards  an  opportunity  be 
given  him  to  speak  as  he  chose.  Thereupon  the  heads  of  the 
accusation  were  read  one  by  one  from  the  pulpit  and  afterwards 
substantiated  with  testimony.  Then  he  was  asked  if  he  de- 
sired to  make  objection.  It  is  incredible  how  adroitly  he 
replied,  and  with  what  arguments  he  defended  himself.  He 
advanced  nothing  unworthy  of  a  good  man;  as  though  he  felt 
confident,  as  he  publicly  asserted,  that  no  just  reason  could  be 
found  for  his  death  nor  even  for  his  conviction  of  the  least 
offence.  He  declared  all  the  charges  to  be  false,  invented  by 
his  rivals.  Among  other  things,  when  in  the  reading  he  was 
branded  as  a  slanderer  of  the  apostolic  see,  an  opponent  of  the 
Roman  pontiff,  an  enemy  to  the  cardinals,  a  persecutor  of 
prelates,  and  hostile  to  the  Christian  clergy,  then  rising  with 
voice  of  complaint  and  hands  outstretched:  "Whither  shall  I 
turn  now,  O  conscript  fathers?  Of  whom  shall  I  seek  aid? 
Whose  intercession  shall  I  seek?  whom  call  in  my  behalf? 
Not  you  !  For  these  my  persecutors  have  turned  your  minds 


POGGIO   BRACCIOLINI.  47 

from  my  welfare;  branding  me  as  the  general  enemy  of  those 
who  are  to  sit  in  judgment  upon  me.  They  have  indeed  trusted 
that  even  if  those  things  which  they  have  invented  against  me 
should  seem  trivial,  you  would  nevertheless  crush  with  your 
verdict  the  common  enemy  and  opponent  of  all,  which  they 
have  most  falsely  made  me  out  to  be;  therefore  if  you  trust 
their  words,  there  is  no  longer  any  hope  for  my  safety. ' '  Many 
he  touched  with  humor,  many  with  satire,  many  he  often 
caused  to  laugh  in  spite  of  the  sad  affair,  jesting  at  their  re- 
proaches. When  he  was  asked  what  he  believed  concerning 
the  sacrament,  he  said,  "  First  it  is  bread  and  afterwards  the 
true  body  of  Christ,  and  the  rest  according  to  the  faith."  Then 
a  certain  one  remarked:  "They  say  you  have  declared  that 
it  remains  bread  after  consecration."  He  replied,  "At  the 
baker's  it  remains  bread."  To  a  certain  other  one,  of  the 
order  of  Dominicans,  who  inveighed  bitterly  against  him,  he 
said,  "Peace,  hypocrite!"  To  another  who  swore  against 
him  on  his  conscience,  he  said  :  ' '  This  is  the  surest  way  of 
deceiving. ' '  A  certain  distinguished  opponent  he  never  spoke 
of  except  as  a  dog  or  an  ass.  When  on  account  of  the  number 
and  weight  of  the  charges,  it  was  impossible  to  complete  the 
matter  on  this  day,  it  was  continued  to  a  third  day;  when  the 
heads  of  the  various  accusations  were  repeated  and  afterwards 
confirmed  by  many  witnesses.  Thereupon  the  accused,  rising, 
said:  ' '  Since  you  have  listened  so  attentively  to  my  adversaries, 
it  is  right  and  proper  that  you  should  hear  me  with  unbiased 
minds."  Then  notwithstanding  much  confusion,  permission 
was  granted  him  to  speak.  He,  in  the  beginning,  prayed  that 
God  should  grant  him  such  understanding  and  such  power  of 
speaking  as  might  be  turned  to  the  profit  and  safety  of  his  soul. 
Then:  "I  know,  most  reverend  doctors,"  he  said,  "that  many 
very  excellent  men,  bearing  up  bravely  against  indignities, 
overwhelmed  with  false  witnesses,  have  been  condemned  with 
iniquitous  judgments."  At  first  he  took  them  back  to  Socra- 
tes, unjustly  condemned  by  his  fellow-citizens,  he  who,  when 
occasioned  offered,  was  yet  unwilling  to  escape,  lest  he  should 
thereby  yield  to  the  fear  of  those  two  things  which  seem  most 
bitter  to  men,  imprisonment  and  death.  Then  he  mentioned 


48  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

the  captivity  of  Plato,  the  flight  of  Anaxagoras,  and  the  torture 
of  Zeno,  and  the  unjust  condemnation  of  many  other  pagans; 
the  exile  of  Rupilius,  the  unworthy  death  of  Boetius  and  others 
whom  Boetius  himself  mentions.  Thence  he  passed  to  Hebrew 
examples:  and  first  instanced  Moses,  the  liberator  of  his  peo- 
ple and  their  legislator,  how  he  had  often  been  caluminated  by 
his  people,  called  the  betrayer  and  the  despiser  of  his  race; 
Joseph,  first  of  all  sold  by  his  brethren  through  envy,  then 
thrown  into  chains  upon  suspicion  of  adultery.  Along  with 
these  Isaiah,  Daniel  and  almost  all  the  prophets  assailed  with 
unjust  judgments  as  despisers  of  God  or  seditious.  Then  he 
brought  forward  the  judgment  of  Susanna;  and  of  many  others 
of  the  greatest  sanctity,  who  nevertheless  perished  by  false 
judgments.  Afterward  coming  down  to  John  the  Baptist,  and 
then  to  our  Saviour,  he  proceeded  to  show  how  in  each  case 
they  were  condemned  by  false  witnesses  and  false  judges. 
Then  Stephen,  put  to  death  by  the  priesthood,  and  the  Apos- 
tles, all  of  them,  condemned  to  death,  not  as  good  men,  but  as 
inciting  the  people  to  sedition,  as  despisers  of  the  Gods  and 
doers  of  evil  deeds.  It  was  a  crime  that  a  priest  should  be  un- 
justly condemned  by  a  priest,  and  he  showed  that  it  was  the 
greatest  crime  that  this  should  be  done  by  a  company  of  priests, 
and  proved  it  by  example,  but  most  iniquitous  of  all,  by  a 
council  of  priests ;  and  he  showed  that  this  had  happened. 
These  things  he  clearly  set  forth,  much  to  the  interest  of  all, 
and  since  the  whole  weight  of  the  case  depended  upon  the  wit- 
nesses, he  showed  with  much  reason  that  no  confidence  was  to 
be  placed  in  them,  particularly  when  they  spoke,  not  out  of 
conviction,  but  from  hatred,  illwill  and  envy.  Then  he  laid 
bare  the  causes  of  their  hatred  in  such  a  way  that  he  lacked 
little  of  bringing  conviction.  They  were  of  such  a  character 
that  (except  in  a  matter  of  faith)  little  credence  would  have 
been  given  to  their  evidence.  The  minds  of  all  were  moved 
and  turned  toward  mercy;  for  he  added  that  he  had  come  to 
Constance  of  his  own  free  will,  to  clear  himself.  He  described 
his  life  and  studies,  full  of  services  and  virtues.  Such  he  said 
was  the  custom  of  the  most  learned  and  holiest  men  of  old,  that 
they  held  diverse  opinions  in  matters  of  faith,  not  to  the  injury 


POGGIO   BRACCIOLINI.  49 

of  the  faith,  but  to  the  discovery  of  the  truth.  In  this  way 
Augustine  and  Jerome  differed,  not  alone  that  they  held  di- 
verse opinions,  but  also  contrary  ones;  and  this  with  no  sus- 
picion of  heresy.  But  all  expected  that  either  he  should  purge 
himself  of  heresy,  by  retracting  the  things  charged  against 
him,  or  should  ask  pardon  for  his  errors.  But  he  asserted  that 
he  had  not  erred,  and  pointing  out  the  falsity  of  the  charges 
made  by  others,  was  unwilling  himself  to  retract.  So  coming 
down  to  praise  John  Huss,  who  had  been  condemned  to  be 
burnt,  he  called  him  a  good  man,  just  and  holy,  unworthy  of 
such  a  death,  saying  that  he  himself  was  prepared  to  go  to  any 
punishment  whatsoever,  with  brave  and  steadfast  mind;  even 
to  deliver  himself  to  his  enemies  and  to  those  lying  witnesses, 
who  sometime,  in  the  presence  of  God,  whom  they  could  not 
deceive,  would  be  called  to  account  for  the  things  which  they 
had  said.  Great  was  the  grief  of  those  present;  for  they  de- 
sired to  see  so  worthy  a  man  saved,  if  he  had  shown  a  reason- 
able disposition.  But  he  persevered  in  his  opinion,  and  seemed 
moreover  to  seek  death.  In  his  praise  of  John  Huss  he  said 
that  Huss  had  never  held  opinions  hostile  to  the  Church  of 
God  itself,  but  only  against  the  abuses  of  the  clergy,  against 
the  pride,  the  arrogance  and  the  pomp  of  prelates.  For  since 
the  patrimony  of  the  churches  was  first  intended  for  the  poor, 
then  for  the  hospitals,  then  for  the  building  of  churches,  it 
seemed  to  this  good  man  a  shame  that  it  should  come  to  be 
wasted  upon  harlots,  banquets,  food  for  horses  and  dogs,  ele- 
gant garments  and  other  things  unworthy  of  the  religion  ot 
Christ.  But  here  he  displayed  the  greatest  cleverness ;  for 
when  his  speech  was  often  interrupted  with  various  disturb- 
ances, and  he  was  assailed  by  some  who  carped  at  his  opin- 
ions, he  left  no  one  of  them  unscathed,  but  turned  trenchantly 
upon  them,  forced  them  either  to  blush  or  to  be  still.  When 
murmurs  rose  he  was  silent,  occasionally  rebuking  the  throng. 
Then  he  proceeded  with  his  discourse,  beseeching  them  and 
imploring  that  they  should  suffer  him  to  speak  (when  they 
were  no  longer  disposed  to  give  him  audience).  He  never 
showed  fear  of  these  outcries,  but  his  mind  remained  firm  and 
fearless.  Indeed  his  argument  is  worthy  of  remembrance. 


50  SOURCE- BOOK   OF  THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

For  340  days  he  lay  in  the  bottom  of  a  foul,  dark  tower.  He 
himself  complained  of  the  harshness  of  this  treatment,  but  as- 
serted that  he,  as  became  a  good  and  brave  man,  did  not  com- 
plain because  he  had  to  bear  these  indignities,  but  because  he 
wondered  at  the  inhumanity  shown  him.  In  the  dungeon  he 
had  not  only  no  facilities  for  reading,  but  not  even  for  seeing. 
I  leave  out  of  consideration  the  mental  anxiety  which  must 
have  tortured  him  daily,  all  memory  of  which  he  sought  to 
put  aside.  Yet  when  he  cited  in  testimony  of  his  opinions  so 
many  of  the  most  learned  and  wisest  of  men,  and  brought  for- 
ward so  many  doctors  of  the  church  in  proof  of  his  contention, 
that  it  would  have  been  sufficient  and  more  than  sufficient,  if 
during  all  this  time,  with  perfect  comfort  and  quiet  he  could 
have  devoted  himself  to  the  study  of  wisdom;  his  voice  was 
full,  clear  and  soft;  his  posture  oratorical  with  a  certain  dignity, 
expressing  indignation  and  moving  pity,  which,  however,  he 
neither  sought,  nor  desired  to  obtain.  He  stood  there  fearless 
and  unterrified,  not  alone  despising  death,  but  seeking  it;  so 
that  you  would  have  said  he  was  another  Cato.  O,  man 
worthy  of  the  everlasting  memory  of  men!  I  praise  not  that 
which  he  advanced,  if  anything,  against  the  institutions  of  the 
church;  but  I  admire  his  learning,  his  comprehensive  knowl- 
edge, his  eloquence,  his  persuasiveness  of  speech,  his  clever- 
ness in  reply.  But  I  fear  that  nature  had  given  all  these 
things  to  him  for  his  destruction.  A  space  of  two  days  was 
given  him  for  repentance.  Many  of  the  most  learned  men  ap- 
proached him,  seeking  to  move  him  from  his  way  of  thinking. 
Among  them  the  Cardinal  of  Florence  went  to  him,  in  order 
to  bring  him  into  the  right  path.  But  when  with  even  greater 
obstinacy  he  persevered  in  his  errors,  and  was  condemned  by 
the  council  for  heresy  and  burned  with  fire,  he  went  to  his  fate 
with  joyful  and  willing  countenance;  for  he  feared  not  the  fire, 
nor  any  kind  of  torture  or  of  death-  None  of  the  Stoics  ever 
suffered  death  with  a  mind  so  steadfast  and  brave,  so  that  he 
seemed  to  have  longed  for  it.  When  he  came  to  the  place  of 
death,  he  laid  aside  his  garments.  Then  kneeling  down,  on 
bended  knee  he  saluted  the  stake,  to  which  he  had  been  boui  d. 
He  was  bound  first  with  wet  ropes,  then  with  a  chain,  naked 


LEON   BATTISTA  ALBBRTI.  51 

to  the  stake,  and  about  him  were  placed  great  pieces  of  wood 
up  to  his  breast,  with  stakes  driven  about.  When  the  fire  was 
brought  he  began  to  sing  a  hymn,  which  the  smoke  and  fire 
scarcely  interrupted.  But  what  most  showed  his  strength  of 
courage  was  this:  when  the  executioners  wished  to  start  the 
fire  behind  his  back  (that  he  might  not  see  it),  "  Come  here," 
he  said,  "and  light  the  fire  in  front  of  me.  If  I  had  been 
afraid  of  it,  I  should  never  have  come  to  this  place  (which  it 
was  possible  to  avoid)."  In  this  manner  a  man  worthy  (ex- 
cept in  respect  of  faith),  was  burned.  I  saw  this  death,  and 
watched  its  stages,  one  by  one.  Whether  moved  by  perfidy  or 
stubbornness,  you  would  surely  have  said  that  this  was  the 
end  of  a  man  schooled  in  philosophy.  I  have  chatted  to  you 
so  at  length,  because  of  idleness,  for  doing  nothing,  I  wished 
something  to  do,  and  to  tell  you  of  these  things,  so  like  the 
histories  of  the  ancients.  For  not  Mutius  himself  suffered  his 
arm  to  burn  with  such  high  courage  as  did  this  man  his  whole 
body.  Nor  did  Socrates  drink  the  poison  so  willingly  as  he 
accepted  fire.  But  enough  of  this.  Be  economical  of  my 
words,  if  I  have  been  too  long.  The  affair  really  demands  a 
longer  description;  but  I  do  not  wish  to  be  verbose.  Farewell, 
my  excellent  Leonardo.  Constance,  the  third  day  before  the 
Calends  of  June;  the  same  day  on  which  this  Jerome  suffered 
the  penalty  of  heresy.  Farewell,  and  love  me. 

LEON  BATTISTA  ALBERTI. 

Place  and  time  of  birth  undetermined.  Thought  to  be  Venice,  in 
1404.  Alberti's  talents  covered  a  wide  range  of  subjects.  He  is  known 
as  a  writer  of  Latin  verse,  as  a  musician  and  as  an  architect.  Employed 
by  Nicholas  V.  in  the  restoration  of  the  papal  palace  and  of  other  Roman 
buildings.  Died  at  Rome  in  1472  (1484).  Chief  works  are  upon  Sculp- 
ture, Painting  and  Architecture. 

EXTRACT  FROM  THE  Trattato  del  Governo  della  Famiglia.* 
Children.     What  things  do  you  find  necessary  to  a  family  ? 
Agnolo.     Many  things.     Good  fortune,  which  is  not  wholly 
within  the  power  of  men. 

*  Edited  by  Antonio  Fortunate  Stella,  Milan,  1811.  Attributed  »o 
Agnolo  Pandolfiui. 


52  SOURCE-BOOK  OF  THE  ITALIAN  RENAISSANCE. 

Children.  But  those  which  are  within  the  power  of  men, 
what  are  they  ? 

Agnolo.  They  are:  to  possess  a  home,  where  the  family  may 
be  gathered  together;  to  have  wherewith  to  feed  the  children; 
to  be  able  to  clothe  them,  and  to  give  them  learning  and  good 
manners.  For  nothing  appears  to  me  so  necessary  to  the  fam- 
ily as  to  cause  the  young  people  to  be  studious  and  virtuous, 
reverent,  and  willing  to  hearken  to  advice;  for  when  reverence 
and  obedience  are  lacking  in  the  young,  then  vice  grows  in 
them  from  day  to  day,  either  as  the  result  of  a  depraved  nature, 
or  through  evil  conversation  and  waste  and  corrupt  habits. 
Everywhere  you  see  children  full  of  gentleness,  pure  and  dili- 
gent, turn  out  badly  through  the  negligence  of  him  who  has 
failed  to  govern  them  properly.  It  is  not  the  sole  duty  of  the 
father  of  the  family  to  keep  the  granary  and  cellar  of  the  house 
filled,  but  also  to  watch  and  to  observe,  to  note  what  company 
his  children  keep,  to  examine  their  habits  at  home  and  abroad, 
and  to  detect  all  evil  practices;  to  constrain  his  children  with 
suitable  words  rather  than  with  anger  and  contempt;  to  make 
use  of  authority  rather  than  force,  to  refrain  from  severity  and 
harshness  when  there  is  no  need;  always  to  conserve  the  wel- 
fare and  repose  of  the  whole  household;  to  rule  the  minds  of 
children  and  nephews  so  that  they  shall  not  depart  from  the 
duty  and  the  rule  of  life;  to  provide  in  advance  against  every 
danger  which  may  threaten  the  family,  kindling  in  their  child- 
ish minds  love  and  appreciation  of  things  of  worth  and  value, 
rooting  up  all  vices,  putting  before  them  the  good  example  of 
his  own  life,  and  above  all  restraining  the  excessive  license  of 
youth.  So  ought  children  to  be  reared  and  educated. 

Children.     We  pray  God  to  give  us  grace  so  to  do. 

Nephews.  And  how  will  you  observe  good  husbandry  in 
this  ?  We  are  a  large  family,  we  have  great  expenses,  and  we 
all  desire  to  be  like  you,  good  managers,  moderate,  honest, 
continent,  to  live  sumptuously  at  home  and  decently  abroad. 
How  ought  we  then  to  do? 

Agnolo.  As  best  you  may,  according  as  the  time  is  one  of 
prosperity  or  adversity.  I  am  of  the  opinion  that  in  our  living 
and  in  all  our  affairs  reason  avails  more  than  chance;  and  pru- 


LEON  BATTISTA  ALBERTI.  53 

dence  holds  its  own  against  misfortune.  Flee  idleness,  wan- 
tonness, treachery,  indolence  and  unbridled  greed.  Be  gentle, 
self-possessed,  humane,  benevolent  and  free  from  ignorance, 
vice,  insolence  and  pride,  and  with  graciousness  and  tact  seek 
the  good  will  and  affection  of  your  fellow  citizens.  Envy 
ceases  where  pomp  ends.  Hatred  is  extinguished  where  distinc- 
tions of  rank  cease.  Enmity  is  spent  where  no  offense  is  given. 
Strive  to  be  that  which  you  wish  to  appear. 

Children  and  Nephews.  These  are  the  best  of  precepts;  but 
in  order  that  we  may  completely  master  your  teaching  and 
doctrine,  suppose  the  case  that  you  are  of  our  age,  that  you 
have  wife  and -children  (and  having  once  possessed  them  you 
are  experienced);  in  what  manner  would  you  arrange  your  af- 
fairs— how  would  you  manage  ? 

Agnolo.  My  children  and  nephews,  if  I  were  of  your  age  I 
should  be  capable  of  many  things,  which  now  I  may  not  un- 
dertake. The  first  thing  would  be  to  have  a  home  well  ordered 
and  appointed,  where  I  should  be  able  to  live  with  all  conven- 
ience and  comfort,  without  having  to  move  about.  Moving 
about  is  too  harmful,  too  full  of  expense,  discomfort  and  vexation. 
Things  are  lost,  mislaid,  spoiled,  broken,  and  through  these 
evils  the  mind  is  greatly  disturbed  and  disconcerted,  and  it 
takes  some  time  before  you  are  again  well  settled.  I  leave  out 
of  account  the  expense  of  rearranging  the  home.  I  should 
take  care  to  occupy  a  clean  and  wholesome  house,  well  aired 
(for  the  age  of  childhood  has  great  reason  to  fear  bad  air  and 
conditions  unfavorable  to  health),  and  I  should  observe  to  what 
age  people  had  lived  there,  and  whether  the  old  people  had 
remained  well  and  vigorous.  My  children,  the  well  man  always 
wins  in  any  case  whatsoever ;  the  sick  man  may  never  call  himself 
rich. 

Children  and  Nephews.  And  what  seems  to  you  to  be  requi- 
site to  health  ? 

Agnolo.  First  of  all,  that  which  we  are  obliged  to  use  just 
as  we  find  it,  whether  we  will  or  not.  This  is  the  air.  Next, 
the  other  things  necessary  to  our  existence  :  good  and  sound 
food,  and  especially  good  wine. 

Children.     And  in  that  place  you  would  live? 


54  SOURCE-BOOK   OP  THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

Agnolo.  Yes,  where  I  thought  it  best  for  me  to  be,  for  me 
and  mine. 

Children  and  Nephews.  What  would  you  do  if  you  wished 
to  change  your  residence  ?  Would  you  buy  a  home  or  rent 
one? 

Agnolo.  Certainly  I  should  not  rent;  for  in  time  a  man  finds 
that  he  has  bought  a  house  and  still  has  it  not.  If  I  had  not 
one  already,  I  should  buy  an  airy,  spacious  house,  of  a  size  to 
contain  my  family,  and  more,  in  order  that  I  might  entertain 
one  of  my  friends,  if  he  should  come  to  see  me;  and  I  should 
spend  upon  this  purchase  as  little  money  as  possible. 

Children.  Would  you  take  a  house  in  an  out-of-the-way 
place,  where  houses  are  cheaper? 

Agnolo.  Do  not  say  cheaper.  Nothing  is  dear,  if  the  money 
is  spent  on  something  that  suits.  Therefore,  I  should  seek  to 
buy  a  house  that  would  suit  me;  but  I  should  not  pay  for  it 
more  than  it  was  worth,  nor  should  I  show  myself  an  eager 
purchaser.  I  should  choose  a  house  located  in  a  good  neigh- 
borhood, in  a  well-known  street,  where  respectable  people 
were  living,  whose  friendship  I  might  acquire  without  harm, 
so  that  my  wife  might  enjoy  the  virtuous  companionship  of 
their  ladies.  Moreover,  I  should  inform  myself  as  to  who  had 
previously  dwelt  there,  and  I  should  insist  upon  knowing 
whether  they  had  lived  there  sound  and  well.  There  are  some 
houses  in  which  it  seems  that  no  one  can  live  happily. 

Children.  Indeed  you  speak  truly.  We  remember  to  have 
heard  of  a  beautiful  and  imposing  house.  A  certain  one  who 
lived  there  lost  everything;  another  remained  there  alone;  an- 
other was  driven  forth  with  much  disgrace.  All  turned  out 
badly. 

Nephews.  Surely  these  observations  of  yours  are  worth  at- 
tention: to  have  a  suitable  house  in  a  good  and  reputable  neigh- 
borhood. And  having  this,  how  would  you  arrange  your  other 
economies  ? 

Agnolo.  I  should  see  to  it  that  all  of  mine  should  live  under 
the  same  roof;  that  they  should  be  warmed  at  the  same  fire 
and  seated  at  the  same  table. 

Children.     We  can  imagine  your  pleasure  in  seeing  yourself 


I<EON   BATTISTA   ALBERTI.  55 

in  their  midst,  father  of  all,  surrounded,  loved,  revered  as  the 
master  of  all;  and  in  the  training  of  youth,  which  is  for  the 
aged  the  highest  pleasure,  since  virtuous  children  afford  to 
their  parents  much  aid,  honor  and  praise.  In  the  care  of  the 
father  lies  the  virtue  of  the  children.  A  careful  and  painstak- 
ing father  ennobles  his  family. 

Agnolo.  That  is  true;  but,  believe  me,  there  is  yet  a  greater 
economy  in  living  behind  a  single  threshold. 

Children.     You  say  this? 

Agnolo.  And  I  will  make  you  certain  of  it.  Tell  me:  if 
now  it  were  night  and  dark,  and  some  one  should  light  a  candle 
in  your  midst,  you,  I  and  these  others  would  enjoy  the  light 
sufficiently  to  read,  write  and  do  whatever  might  be  necessary. 
But  if  we  go  apart,  one  hither  and  one  thither,  each  wishing 
to  use  the  light  as  before,  do  you  believe  that  one  burning 
candle  will  suffice  for  us,  as  when  we  were  all  together  ? 

Children.  Truly  not.  Who  can  doubt  it?  For  where  for- 
merly one  light  burned  for  all,  now  divided  and  gone  asunder, 
there  would  be  need  of  three. 

Agnolo.  And  now  if  it  should  be  very  cold,  and  together  we 
had  taken  coals  and  lighted  a  great  fire,  and  now  you  wish  to 
have  your  part  of  it  elsewhere,  and  these  others  carry  their 
portions  away,  will  you  be  able  to  warm  yourself  as  well,  or 
worse  ? 

Children.     Worse. 

Agnolo.  So  it  happens  with  the  family.  Many  things  there 
are  that  suffice  for  many  persons  living  together,  but  which  are 
insufficient  for  a  few  here  and  there  in  various  places.  Quite 
other  power  and  favor,  quite  other  praise  and  reputation,  quite 
other  authority  and  credit  will  he  enjoy  who  finds  himself  sur- 
rounded with  his  family.  He  will  be  more  feared  and  more 
esteemed  than  he  who  goes  forth  with  few  about  him  and  with- 
out the  company  of  his  own  people.  Much  more  will  the  father 
of  a  family  be  recognized  and  regarded,  whom  many  of  his 
people  follow,  than  he  who  goes  alone.  The  abundance  of 
persons  constitutes  the  value  of  the  family.  Let  not  the  family 
be  divided,  for  where  formerly  it  was  large,  there  will  be  but 
two  small  groups.  The  utility  and  honor  of  the  whole  family 


56  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

ought  to  be  preferred  to  that  of  the  individual.  The  head  that  is 
not  supported  by  all  the  members  falls.  The  divided  family  is 
not  alone  diminished,  but  every  social  grade  and  favor  hereto- 
fore acquired  is  lost.  Every  one  respects  a  united  family;  two 
discordant  families  enjoy  no  regard.  I  wish  now  to  speak  as 
a  man  rather  practical  than  learned,  and  to  adduce  reasons  in 
support  of  my  proposition.  For  two  tables  two  cloths  are 
spread,  two  fires  are  kindled,  and  two  fires  consume  two  por- 
tions of  wood.  For  two  tables  two  servants  are  employed, 
where  for  one  table  one  servant  answers.  I  need  not  follow 
out  the  thought;  you  can  complete  it  for  yourselves.  In  divid- 
ing one  family  into  two  it  is  necessary  to  double  the  expense; 
and  there  are  many  other  disadvantages,  more  evident  in  prac- 
tice than  in  theory.  This  dividing  of  the  family  has  never 
pleased  me,  nor  does  it  please  me  now;  this  going  and  coming 
through  many  doorways.  Nor  would  my  spirit  permit  that 
you  should  live  without  me,  under  another  roof. 

Children.     For  all  of  which  we  honor  you. 

Agnolo.  Yes,  my  children,  under  one  roof  the  family  lives 
to  best  advantage.  However,  when  the  children  are  grown  up, 
or  the  increasing  family  makes  the  dwelling  too  small  to  hold 
them  all,  let  those  who  go  away  at  least  depart  of  their  own 
pleasure. 

Children.  O  speech  worthy  of  being  held  perpetually  in 
memory !  With  one  will  shall  the  family  stand !  But  then 
when  all  are  at  home  and  desire  to  sup  and  dine  ? 

Agnolo.  Let  it  be  so  arranged  that  they  may  sup  and  dine 
in  due  season  and  well. 

Nephews.     Do  you  mean  by  that  to  eat  of  good  food  ? 

Agnolo.  Good,  my  children,  and  abundant.  Not  indeed 
pea-fowls,  capons,  partridges,  pheasants,  and  other  choice  food 
of  the  kind,  which  are  fit  for  invalids  or  for  banquets;  but  let  a 
substantial  table  be  prepared,  so  that  no  one  of  us,  accustomed 
to  our  fare,  may  desire  to  dine  elsewhere,  hoping  thereby  the 
better  to  satisfy  his  hunger.  Let  the  home  table  be  well  sup- 
plied with  wine  and  bread.  Let  the  wine  be  honest,  and  the 
bread  as  well,  and  with  these  pure  and  abundant  condiments. 

Nephews.  That  is  a  good  idea.  And  would  you  buy  these 
things  from  day  to  day  ? 


LEON   BATTISTA   AI.BERTI.  57 

Agnolo.  I  should  not  buy  them  at  all,  for  that  would  not 
be  economy.  Whoever  sells  his  things,  sells  only  those  he  no 
longer  cares  to  retain.  Who,  think  you,  will  deprive  his  house 
of  the  best  rather  than  the  worst,  and  that  which  he  deems  it 
no  longer  prudent  to  retain  ?  In  some  cases,  however,  from 
need  of  money,  the  better  articles  are  sold. 

Nephews.  We  are  persuaded  of  it,  and  he  who  would  be 
prudent  will  sell  the  least  valuable  first,  and  when  he  sells  the 
better  articles,  he  will  sell  them  for  more  than  cost. 

Agnolo.  True.  It  is  desirable,  however,  to  have  at  hand 
the  things  that  are  needed,  to  have  tested  them  and  to  know 
their  season;  so  that  I  am  better  pleased  to  have  them  in  the 
house  than  to  seek  them  elsewhere. 

Children.  Would  you  wish  to  have  in  the  house  a  whole 
year's  consumption  at  one  time? 

Agnolo.  I  should  like  to  have  in  the  house  that  which  is 
needed,  and  that  which  can  be  kept  without  risk,  annoyance 
or  extra  labor,  or  without  giving  cause  for  accidents  or  too 
much  lumbering  up  the  house.  That  which  would  not  keep  I 
should  sell,  and  refurnish  myself  from  time  to  time,  for  it  is 
better  to  leave  the  labor  and  risk  of  these  things  to  others  until 
the  time  of  their  use. 

Nephews.  Would  you  sell  that  which  you  had  previously 
bought  ? 

Agnolo.  Insomuch  as  I  might  do  so,  if  by  keeping  it  I 
should  incur  loss.  If  I  had  my  choice  I  should  not  wish  to 
sell  this  or  that  article,  because  these  things  belong  to  low  and 
mercenary  occupations.  Economy  demands  that  sometimes 
you  should  lay  in  a  large  supply  and  that  you  should  furnish 
yourself  with  everything  in  season.  Still  I  tell  you  that  I 
should  not  like  to  be  obliged  to  pay  out  my  ready  cash  every 
year. 

Children.     We  do  not  see  how  that  can  be  avoided. 

Agnolo.  I  will  show  you.  I  should  manage  to  have  an  es- 
tate, which,  with  less  expense  than  buying  in  the  market, 
would  keep  the  house  supplied  with  grain,  wine,  oats,  wood, 
fodder  and  the  like.  Then  I  should  raise  sheep,  poultry, 
pigeons,  and  even  fish.  I  should  buy  this  property  out  of  my 


58  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

capital,  and  not  hire  it,  for  then  it  would  be  mine  and  my  chil- 
dren's and  my  nephews'  as  well;  so  that  we  should  have  more 
interest  in  its  care,  and  in  seeing  that  it  was  well  cultivated, 
since  my  successors  in  their  time  would  reap  the  fruits  of  my 
planting. 

Nephews.  Would  you  expect  to  gather  from  your  land  in  a 
single  location  grain,  wine,  oil,  fodder  and  wood? 

Agnolo.     Indeed  I  should. 

Children.  To  grow  good  wine  side-hills  and  a  southern  ex- 
posure are  necessary.  To  grow  good  grain  requires  flat  land, 
mellow  and  light.  Good  wood  grows  on  the  mountains  and  on 
steep  places;  hay  in  cool,  damp  meadows.  Do  you  expect  to 
find  such  a  diversity  in  any  one  locality?  Are  there  indeed 
many  localities  adapted  at  once  to  the  vine,  to  grain  crops,  to 
wood  and  pasturage  ?  And  if  you  found  such  a  place,  do  you 
believe  you  could  acquire  it,  except  at  a  high  price  ? 

Agnolo.  I  believe  it  would  cost  dear.  But  I  remember  that 
in  the  vicinity  of  Florence  there  are  many  sites  in  crystalline 
air,  charming  country,  fine  view,  few  fogs  and  harmful  winds, 
good  water,  everything  healthful,  pure  and  good;  and  many 
handsome  houses,  like  seignorial  palaces  (many  are  built  like 
fortresses — like  castles),  superb  and  splendid  edifices.  I  should 
seek  an  estate,  such  that,  taking  there  a  measure  of  salt,  I 
should  be  able  to  feed  my  family  the  whole  year  through,  and 
give  them  the  whole  year  what  they  needed — if  not  all,  at  least 
the  necessary  things,  such  as  bread,  wine,  oil,  wood  and  corn. 
To  see  that  nothing  was  lacking  I  should  often  inspect  the 
fields,  and  indeed  the  whole  estate;  and  I  should  prefer  to  have 
it  all  together,  or  at  least  the  separate  portions  not  far  distant 
from  each  other,  in  order  to  be  able  the  more  easily  to  go  over 
it  both  on  horse  and  afoot. 

Children.  A  good  idea,  for  then  the  laborers  from  one  end 
to  the  other  would  not  neglect  their  tasks,  and  then  you  would 
not  have  trouble  with  them  so  often. 

Agnolo.  It  is  beyond  belief  how  roguery  has  grown  amongst 
the  peasantry.  Their  every  thought  is  to  deceive  us;  and  you 
may  be  sure  they  never  err  on  the  side  of  their  own  disadvan- 
tage in  your  dealings  with  them.  They  always  see  to  it  that 


SYLVIUS.  59 

something  of  your  share  remains  with  them.  In  the  first  place 
the  peasant  asks  you  to  buy  his  ox,  or  his  sheep,  goat,  swine 
or  horse.  Then  he  demands  a  loan  to  satisfy  his  creditors; 
something  more  to  clothe  his  family,  a  dowry  for  his  daughter, 
something  to  rebuild  his  cottage  or  other  buildings,  farming 
utensils  to  be  replaced,  and  he  never  ceases  with  his  complaints, 
And  when  he  has  been  well  paid,  better  perhaps  than  his  mas- 
ter, he  still  continues  to  lament  and  to  plead  poverty.  Some- 
thing he  will  always  be  in  want  of.  and  he  never  talks  w  ith 
you  that  it  does  not  cost  you  something.  If  the  harvest  is 
abundant,  he  always  retains  the  better  share  for  himself.  If, 
on  account  of  bad  weather  or  any  other  cause,  the  harvest  fails, 
he  sets  aside  for  you  the  damaged  portion,  and  reserves  the 
greater  part  of  the  useful  product  for  himself ;  the  useless  and 
injured  he  always  leaves  for  you. 

Nephews.  Then  it  would  be  better  to  spend  your  money  in 
town,  in  furnishing  your  house,  than  to  have  to  do  with  such 
persons. 

Agnolo.  Nay,  it  is  useful,  my  children,  to  have  to  do  with 
such  persons,  and  to  deal  with  rustic  dispositions,  in  order  that 
you  may  better  understand  how  to  deal  with  your  fellow-citi- 
zens of  equal  rank.  The  country  people  teach  us  not  to  be 
negligent,  and  if  you  are  careful  in  your  own  affairs  neither  yout 
farmers  nor  other  people  will  be  able  to  cheat  you  much,  and  you 
will  not  be  obliged  to  endure  their  malice.  Indeed,  you  may 
laugh  at  it. 

AENEAS  SYL  VIUS. 

Born  at  Corsignano,  near  Siena,  1405.  Studied  at  the  universities  of 
Siena  and  Florence.  Attended  the  council  of  Basel  as  secretary  to  the 
bishop  of  Fermo.  Visited  England  and  Scotland  on  papal  missions. 
Attached  himself  to  the  court  of  the  Emperor  Frederick,  at  Vienna.  Ef- 
fected the  compromise  of  1447  between  Emperor  and  Pope.  Made 
bishop  of  Trieste  by  Nicholas  V.  Elected  to  the  papacy,  1458.  Died  at 
Ancona,  1464,  while  endeavoring  to  set  in  motion  a  crusade  against  the 
Turks.  His  principal  writings  are  the  Commentaries,  the  Epistles,  var- 
ious treatises  on  the  history  of  Germany  and  on  the  geography  of  Europe. 


60  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE  ITALIAN  RENAISSANCE. 

EXTRACT  FROM  De  Liberorum  Educatione.* 

§  2.  As  regards  a  boy's  physical  training,  we  must  bear  in 
mind  that  we  aim  at  implanting  habits  which  will  prove  bene- 
ficial during  life.  So  let  him  cultivate  a  certain  hardness  which 
rejects  excess  of  sleep  and  idleness  in  all  its  forms.  Habits  of 
indulgence — such  as  the  luxury  of  soft  beds,  or  the  wearing  of 
silk  instead  of  linen  next  the  skin,  tend  to  enervate  both  body 
and  mind.  Too  much  importance  can  hardly  be  attached  to 
right  bearing  and  gesture.  Childish  habits  of  playing  with  the 
lips  and  features  should  be  early  controlled.  A  boy  should  be 
taught  to  hold  his  head  erect,  to  look  straight  and  fearlessly 
before  him,  and  to  bear  himself  with  dignity,  whether  walking, 
standing  or  sitting.  In  ancient  Greece  we  find  that  both  phil- 
osophers and  men  of  affairs — Socrates,  for  instance,  and  Chry- 
sippus,  or  Philip  of  Macedon — deemed  this  matter  worthy  of 
their  concern,  and  therefore  it  may  well  be  thought  deserving 
of  ours.  Games  and  exercises  which  develop  the  muscular 
activities  and  the  general  carriage  of  the  person  should  be  en- 
couraged by  every  teacher.  For  such  physical  trai  ing  not 
only  cultivates  grace  of  attitude,  but  secures  the  healthy  play 
of  our  bodily  organs  and  establishes  the  constitution. 

Every  youth  destined  to  exalted  position  should  further  be 
trained  in  military  exercises.  It  will  be  your  destiny  to  defend 
Christendom  against  the  Turk.  It  will  thus  be  an  essential 
part  of  your  education  that  you  be  early  taught  the  use  of  the 
bow,  of  the  sling,  and  of  the  spear;  that  you  drive,  ride,  leap 
and  swim.  These  are  honorable  accomplishments  in  every  one, 
and  therefore  not  unworthy  of  the  educator's  care.  Ponder 
the  picture  which  Virgil  gives  of  the  youth  of  the  Itali,  skilled 
in  all  the  warlike  exercises  of  their  time.  Games,  too,  should 
be  encouraged  for  young  children — the  ball,  the  hoop — but 
these  must  not  be  rough  and  coarse,  but  have  in  them  an  ele- 
ment of  skill.  Such  relaxations  should  form  an  integral  part 
of  each  day's  occupations,  if  learning  is  not  to  be  an  object  of 

*  Prom  Woodward:  Vittotino  da  Feltreand  other  Humanist  Educators. 
Cambridge,  1897.  JEneas  is  here  addressing  Ladislas,  the  young  king  of 
Bohemia  and  Hungary,  who  has  sought  his  advice  in  the  matter  of  edu- 
cation. 


SYLVIUS.  6l 

disgust.  Just  as  nature  and  the  life  of  man  present  us  with 
alterations  of  effort  and  repose— toil  and  sleep,  winter  and 
summer — so  we  may  hold,  with  Plato,  that  it  is  a  law  of  our 
being  that  rest  from  work  is  a  needful  condition  of  further 
work.  To  observe  this  truth  is  a  chief  duty  of  the  master. 

In  respect  of  eating  and  drinking,  the  rule  of  moderation 
consists  in  rejecting  anything  which  needlessly  taxes  digestion 
and  so  impairs  mental  activity.  At  the  same  time  fastidious- 
ness must  not  be  humored.  A  boy,  for  instance,  whose  lot  it 
may  be  to  face  life  in  the  camp,  or  in  the  forest,  should  so  dis- 
cipline his  appetite  that  he  may  eat  even  beef.  The  aim  of 
eating  is  to  strengthen  the  frame;  so  let  vigorous  health  reject 
cakes  or  sweets,  elaborate  dishes  of  small  birds  or  eels,  which 
are  for  the  delicate  and  the  weakly.  Your  own  countrymen, 
like  all  northern  peoples,  are,  I  know,  sore  offenders  in  this 
matter  cf  eating  and  drinking.  But  I  count  upon  your  own 
innate  self-respect  to  preserve  you  from  such  bad  example,  and 
to  enable  you  to  despise  the  sneers  and  complaints  of  those 
around  you.  What  but  disease  and  decay  can  result  from  appe- 
tite habituaUy  over  indulged  ?  Such  concession  to  the  flesh 
stands  condemned  by  all  of  the  great  spirits  of  the  past  In 
Augustus  Caesar,  in  Socrates,  we  have  instances  of  entire  in- 
difference in  choice  of  food.  Caligula,  Nero  and  Viteilius 
serve  as  sufficient  examples  of  grossly  sensual  tastes.  To  the 
Greeks  of  the  best  age  eating  and  drinking  were  only  means  to 
living,  not  the  chief  end  and  aim  of  it.  For  they  recognized, 
with  Aristotle,  that  in  this  capacity  for  bodily  pleasures  we  are 
on  the  same  level  with  lower  creatures. 

As  regards  the  use  of  wine,  remember  that  we  drink  to  quench 
thirst,  and  that  the  limit  of  moderation  is  reached  when  the 
edge  of  the  intellect  is  dulled.  A  boy  should  be  brought  up  to 
avoid  wine,  for  he  possesses  a  store  of  natural  moisture  in  the 
blood  and  so  rarely  experiences  thirst.  Hence  highly  diluted 
wine  alone  can  be  allowed  to  children,  whilst  women  are,  per- 
haps, better  without  it  altogether,  as  was  the  custom  in  Rome, 
The  abuse  of  wine  is  more  common  amongst  northern  peoples 
than  in  Italy.  Plato  allowed  its  moderate  enjoyment  as  tend- 
ing to  mental  relaxation,  and,  indeed,  temperance  in  the  true 


62  SOURCE-BOOK  OF  THE   ITALIAN  RENAISSANCE. 

sense  is  hardly  consistent  with  the  absolute  prohibition  of  all 
that  might  seduce  us  from  our  virtuous  resolutions.  So  that  a 
young  man's  best  security  against  excess  may  be  found  to  lie 
in  a  cautious  use  of  wine,  safeguarded  by  innate  strength  of 
will  and  a  watchful  temper.  There  is  no  reason  why  social 
feastings  should  not  be  dignified  by  serious  conversation  and 
yet  be  bright  and  gay  withal.  But  the  body,  after  all,  is  but 
a  framework  for  the  activities  of  the  mind;  and  so  we  hold  fast 
to  the  dictum  of  Pythagoras,  that  he  that  pampers  the  body  is 
devising  a  prison  for  himself.  Even  if  we  had  not  the  support 
of  the  Ancients,  it  is  evident  to  the  serious  mind  that  food  and 
clothing  are  worthy  of  regard  only  so  far  as  they  are  indispens- 
able to  the  vigorous  activity  of  body  and  spirit;  all  beyond 
that  is  trivially  or  effeminacy.  But  this  is  not  to  exclude 
that  care  for  the  outward  person  which  is,  indeed,  demanded 
from  everyone  by  self  respect,  but  is  peculiarly  needful  in  a 
prince. 

§  3.  We  must  now  hasten  on  to  the  larger  and  more  import- 
ant division  of  our  subject,  that  which  treats  of  the  most  prec- 
ious of  all  human  endowments,  the  mind.  Birth,  wealth,  fame, 
health,  vigor  and  beauty  are,  indeed,  highly  prized  by  man- 
kind, but  they  are  one  and  all  of  the  nature  of  accidents;  they 
come  and  they  go.  But  the  riches  of  the  mind  are  a  stable 
possession,  unassailable  by  fortune,  calumny,  or  time.  Our 
material  wealth  lies  at  the  mercy  of  a  successful  foe,  but,  as 
Stilpho  said,  '  War  can  exact  no  requisition  from  personal 
worth.'  So,  too,  you  will  remember  the  reply  of  Socrates  to 
Gorgias,  applying  it  to  your  own  case:  '  How  can  I  adjudge 
the  Great  King  happy,  until  I  know  to  what  he  can  truly  lay 
claim  in  character  and  in  wisdom  ? '  Lay  to  heart  the  truth 
here  conveyed:  our  one  sure  possession  is  character;  the  place 
and  fortune  of  men  charge,  it  may  be  suddenly,  profoundly; 
nor  may  we,  by  taking  thought,  cunningly  hedge  ourselves 
round  against  all  the  chances  of  life.  As  Solon  long  ago  de- 
clared, no  sane  man  dare  barter  excellence  for  money.  Nay, 
rather,  it  is  a  function  of  true  wisdom,  as  the  tyrants  found  by 
their  experience,  to  enable  us  to  bear  variations  of  fortune. 
Philosophy,  or,  in  other  words,  the  inquiry  into  the  nature  of 


SYLVIUS.  63 


virtue,  is  indeed  a  study  specially  meet  for  princes.  For 
are  in  a  sense  the  arbitary  embodiment  of  law;  a  responsibility 
which  may  well  weigh  heavily,  upon  them.  Truly  has  it  been 
said  that  no  one  has  greater  need  of  a  well-stored  mind  than 
he  whose  will  counts  for  the  happiness  or  misery  of  thousands. 
Like  Solomon,  he  will  rightly  pray  for  wisdom  in  the  guidance 
of  the  state. 

Need  I,  then,  impress  upon  you  the  importance  of  the  study 
of  philosophy,  and  of  letters,  without  which  indeed  philosophy 
itself  is  barely  intelligible  ?  By  this  twofold  wisdom  a  prince 
is  trained  to  understand  the  laws  of  God  and  of  man;  by  it  we 
are,  one  and  all,  enlightened  to  see  the  realities  of  the  world 
around  us.  Literature  is  our  guide  to  the  true  meaning  of  the 
past,  to  a  right  estimate  of  the  present,  to  a  sound  forcast  of 
the  future.  Where  letters  cease,  darkness  covers  the  land; 
and  a  prince  who  cannot  read  the  lessons  of  history  is  a  help- 
less prey  of  flattery  and  intrigue. 

Next  we  ask,  at  what  age  should  a  boy  begin  the  study  of 
letters?  Theodosius  and  Eratosthenes  regarded  the  seventh 
year  as  the  earliest  reasonable  period.  But  Aristophanes,  fol- 
lowed by  Chrysippus  and  Quintilian,  would  have  children  from 
the  very  cradle  begin  their  training  under  nurses  of  skilled  in- 
telligence. In  this  matter  of  nurses  the  greatest  care  is  neces- 
sary, so  subtle  are  the  influences  which  affect  the  growing 
mind.  But  above  all  other  safeguards  stands  the  unconscious 
guidance  of  the  mother,  who,  like  Cornelia  of  old,  must  instil 
by  example  a  refined  habit  of  speech  and  bearing. 

In  religion,  I  may  assume  from  your  Christian  nurture  that 
you  have  learnt  the  Lord's  Prayer,  the  Salutation  of  the 
Blessed  Virgin,  the  Creed,  the  Gospel  of  St.  John,  and  certain 
Collects.  You  have  been  taught  in  what  consist  the  chief 
Commandments  of  God,  the  gifts  of  the  Spirit,  the  deadly  sins; 
the  way  of  salvation  and  the  doctrine  of  the  life  of  the  world  to 
come.  This  latter  truth  was,  indeed,  taught  by  Socrates,  as 
we  know  from  Cicero.  Nor  can  any  earthly  interest  have  so 
urgent  a  claim  upon  us.  We  shall  not  value  this  human  exist- 
ence which  has  been  bestowed  upon  us  except  in  so  far  as  it 
prepares  us  for  the  future  state.  The  fuller  truth  concerning 


64  SOURCE-BOOK  OF  THE  ITALIAN  RENAISSANCE. 

this  great  doctrine  is  beyond  your  years;  but  you  may,  as  time 
goes  on,  refer  to  what  has  been  laid  down  by  the  great  doctors 
of  the  church;  and  not  only  by. them,  for,  as  Basil  allows,  the 
poets  and  other  authors  of  antiquity  are  saturated  with  the 
same  faith,  and  for  this  reason  deserve  our  study.  Literature, 
indeed,  is  ever  holding  forth  to  us  the  lesson,  '  God  before  all 
else.'  As  a  prince,  moreover,  your  whole  life  and  character 
should  be  marked  by  gratitude  for  favors  showered  upon  you 
for  no  merit  of  your  own,  and  by  reverence,  which,  in  all  that 
concerns  the  services,  the  faith,  and  the  authority  of  the 
Church,  will  lead  you  to  emulate  the  filial  obedience  of  Con- 
stantine  and  Theodosius.  For  although  the  priesthood  is  com- 
mitted to  the  protection  of  kings,  it  is  not  under  their  authority. 

In  the  choice  of  companions  be  careful  to  seek  the  society 
of  those  only  whose  example  is  worthy  of  your  imitation. 
This  is  indeed  a  matter  which  closely  concerns  your  future 
welfare.  We  are  all,  in  youth  especially,  in  danger  of  yielding 
to  the  influence  of  evil  example.  Above  all,  I  trust  that  your 
tutors  will  keep  you  clear  of  that  insidious  form  of  flattery 
which  consists  in  agreeing  with  everything  we  may  affirm  or 
propose.  Extend  your  intimacy  only  to  those  of  your  own 
years  who  are  frank  and  truthful,  pure  in  word  and  act,  modest 
in  manner,  temperate  and  peaceful.  Seize  every  opportunity 
of  learning  to  converse  in  the  vulgar  tongues  spoken  in  your 
realm.  It  is  unworthy  of  a  prince  to  be  unable  without  an  in- 
terpreter to  hold  intercourse  with  his  people.  Mithridates 
could  speak  with  his  subjects  of  whatever  province  in  their  own 
language;  whilst  neglect  of  this  plain  duty  lost  to  the  empire 
and  its  German  sovereigns  its  fair  province  of  Italy.  The  ties 
that  bind  monarch  and  people  should  be  woven  of  mutual 
affection,  and  how  is  this  possible  where  free  and  intelligible 
communication  cannot  exist?  As  Homer  says,  silence  is  be- 
coming in  a  woman;  but  in  a  man,  and  that  man  a  King,  stand- 
ing before  his  people,  it  is  rather  a  shame  and  a  disgrace. 

§  4.  But  further:  we  must  learn  to  express  ourselves  with 
distinction,  with  style  and  manner  worthy  of  our  subject.  In 
a  word,  eloquence  is  a  prime  accomplishment  in  one  immersed 
in  affairs.  Ulysses,  though  a  poor  warrior,  was  adjudged 


.ENEAS  SYLVIUS.  65 

worthy  of  the  arms  of  Achilles  by  virtue  of  his  persuasive 
speech.  Cicero,  too,  admonishes  us  to  the  same  effect:  '  ]>t 
arms  to  the  toga  yield.'  But  speech  should  ever  follow  upon 
reflection;  without  that  let  a  boy,  nay,  a  man  also,  be  assured 
that  silence  is  his  wiser  part.  Such  orators  as  Pericles  or 
Demosthenes  refused  to  address  the  Assembly  without  oppor- 
tunity for  careful  preparation.  A  facile  orator  speaks  from  his 
lips,  not  from  his  heart  or  understanding;  and  forgets  that 
loquacity  is  not  the  same  as  eloquence.  How  often  have  men 
cause  to  regret  the  gift  of  too  ready  speech,  and  '  the  irrevoc- 
able word '  of  which  Horace  warns  us.  Still  there  is  a  middle 
course;  a  moderation  in  speech,  which  avoids  alike  a  Pythago- 
rean silence  and  the  chatter  of  a  Thersites;  and  at  this  we 
should  aim.  For  without  reasonable  practice  the  faculty  of 
public  speech  may  be  found  altogether  wanting  when  the  need 
arises.  The  actual  delivery  of  our  utterances  calls  for  method- 
ical training.  The  shrill,  tremulous  tones  of  a  girl  must  be 
rigidly  forbidden,  as  on  the  other  hand  must  any  tendency  to 
shout.  The  entire  word  must  in  every  case  be  uttered,  proper 
value  given  to  each  syllable  and  each  letter,  with  especial  at- 
tention to  the  final  sound.  Words  must  not,  as  it  were,  linger 
in  the  throat,  but  be  clearly  emitted,  both  tongue  and  lips  tak- 
ing duly  their  respective  parts.  Your  master  will  arrange  as 
exercises,  words  in  which  the  form  or  connection  of  syllables 
demands  peculiar  care  in  their  enunciation.  You  remember 
the  device  by  which  Demosthenes  trained  his  voice  to  reach 
a  crowded  assembly. 

To  express  yourself,  then,  with  grace  and  distinction  is  a 
proper  object  of  your  ambition;  and  without  ambition  excel- 
lence, in  this  or  other  studies,  is  rarely  attained.  But  if  speech 
be,  as  Democritus  said,  the  shadow  of  which  thought  and  con- 
duct are  the  reality,  you  will  be  warned  by  corrupt  conversa- 
tion to  avoid  the  corrupt  nature  from  which  it  proceeds.  We 
know  that  Ulysses  cunningly  guarded  his  comrades  from  the 
song  of  the  Sirens;  and  that  St.  Paul  quotes  Menander  upon 
the  mischief  wrought  by  'evil  communications.'  But  this  by 
no  means  implies  that  we  must  be  always  at  the  extreme  of 
seriousness  in  social  intercourse.  In  conversation  kindness 


66  SOURCE-BOOK  OF  THE  ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

and  courtesy  are  always  attractive;  pertinacity  or  pretentious- 
ness are  odious;  a  turgid,  affected  style  arouses  contempt.  In- 
sincerity or  malice  are,  of  course,  not  mere  defects  in  form  but 
positive  sins.  So  let  your  address  be  frank,  outspoken,  self- 
respecting,  manly. 

Nature  and  circumstances  thus  provide  us  with  the  general 
material  of  speech,  its  topics,  and  the  broader  conditions  of 
their  treatment.  When,  however,  speech  is  considered  as  an 
art,  we  find  that  it  is  the  function  of  Grammar  to  order  its  ex- 
pression; of  Dialectic  to  give  it  point;  of  Rhetoric  to  illustrate 
it;  of  Philosophy  to  perfect  it.  But  before  entering  upon  this 
in  detail  we  must  first  insist  upon  the  overwhelming  import- 
ance of  Memory,  which  is  in  truth  the  first  condition  of  capacity 
for  letters.  A  boy  should  learn  without  effort,  retain  with 
accuracy,  and  reproduce  easily.  Rightly  is  memory  called 
'the  nursing  mother  of  learning.'  It  needs  cultivation,  how- 
ever, whether  a  boy  be  gifted  with  retentiveness  or  not.  There- 
fore, let  some  passage  from  poet  or  moralist  be  committed  to 
memory  every  day. 

BARTOLOMMEO  SACCHI,  CALLED  PLATINA. 

Born  at  Piadena,  near  Cremona,  about  1421.  In  his  youth  served  four 
years  as  a  soldier;  Later  on  studied  at  Mantua  and  attached  himself  to 
Cardinal  Francesco  Gonzaga,  who  took  him  to  Rome.  Became  a  member 
of  the  Academy  of  Pomponius  Laetus,  organized  for  the  discovery  and 
interpretation  of  Roman  antiquities.  1475,  placed  in  charge  of  the  Vati- 
can library  by  Sixtus  IV.  Died  1481.  His  chief  literary  work  is  entitled: 
In  vitas  summorum  pontificum  ad  Sixtum  IV.  pontificem  maximum, 
Praeclarum  opus. 

NICHOLAS  V.* 

He  was  commendable  for  his  liberality  toward  all,  especially 
Learned  men,  whom  he  advanced  with  Money,  Court-prefer- 
ments, and  Benefices;  whom  he  would  sometimes  put  upon 

*  From  the  Lives  of  the  Popes,  from  the  time  of  our  Saviour  Jesus 
Christ,  to  the  Reign  of  Sixtus  IV.  Written  originally  in  Latin,  By  Bap- 
tista  Platina,  native  of  Cremona,  and  Translated  into  English  ***** 
by  Sir  Paul  Rycant,  Kt.  London,  Printed  for  C-  Wilkinson,  and  are  to 
be  Sold  by  A.  Churchil  at  the  Black  Swan  in  Ave-Mary  lane,  1688. 


BARTOLOMMEO  SACCHI,  GAINED   PLATINA.  67 

reading,  publick  Lectures,  sometimes  upon  writing  some  new 
thing,  and  sometimes  upon  translating  Greek  authors  into 
Latin,  insomuch  that  the  Greek  and  Latin  Tongues,  which  had 
lain  hid  for  six  hundred  years,  at  last  regained  their  splendor 
to  some  considerable  degree.  He  also  sent  those  Learned  Men 
all  over  Europe  to  find  out  such  books  as  had  been  lost  either 
by  the  negligence  of  Antiquity,  or  the  brutal  fury  of  the  bar- 
barous Nations.  So  that  Poggius  found  out  Quintilian,  and 
Enoch  Asculanus,  Marcus  Coelius  Appidus,  as  also  Pomponius 
Porphyrio,  a  famous  Writer  upon  Horace.  Besides,  he  erected 
most  stately  Buildings  in  the  City,  and  the  Vatician;  in  the 
city,  a  noble  House  for  Popes,  near  6*.  Mary  the  Greater,  and 
repaired  6*.  Stephen's  Church,  that  stands  in  the  Mount  di  S. 
Giovanni,  but  built  S.  Theodores,  that  stands  upon  the  plain 
between  the  Palazzo  Maggiore  and  the  Campidoglio,  from  the 
ground.  He  likewise  covered  the  roof  of  S.  Mary  the  Round 
which  stands  in  the  middle  of  the  City,  an  ancient  Temple 
built  by  Agrippa,  with  Lead,  and  in  the  Vatician  he  not  only 
beautified  the  Pope's  House  after  that  manner  which  we  see, 
but  he  began  the  Walls  of  the  Vatican,  very  large  and  high, 
laying  foundations  for  Towers,  and  a  vast  Superstructure, 
whereby  to  keep  the  Enemy  from  plundering  the  Pope's  House, 
or  St.  Peter  s  Church,  as  formerly  was  often  used.  Further- 
more, in  the  upper  end  of  S.  Peter1  s  he  began  a  great  Gallery, 
to  make  the  Church  more  glorious,  and  hold  more  People. 
He  also  repaired  Ponte  Molle:  and  built  a  fine  house  at  Viterbo, 
near  the  Baths.  Nor  only  so,  but  he  lent  many  others  money 
who  were  a-building  in  the  City;  and  by  his  order  the  Streets 
were  paved.  He  was  very  Charitable,  especially  to  Persons  of 
Quality  if  they  happened  to  be  reduced  to  Poverty;  and  gave 
poor  Maids  a  competent  Portion  when  they  were  married. 
He  always  received  foreign  Embassadors  very  honorably  and 
freely.  He  was  easily  anger'd,  to  say  the  truth,  being  a  chole- 
rick  Man,  but  he  was  easily  pleased  again;  and  that  gave  some 
ill-natur'd  People  the  occasion  to  Carp  at  him,  though  he  de- 
served extremely  well  of  God  and  Man.  Then  he  was  so  far 
from  Covetousness,  that  he  never  sold  any  Place,  nor  ever  was 
guilty  of  Simony.  He  was  kind  to  them,  who  deserved  well 


68  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

of  himself  and  the  Church  of  God,  a  lover  of  Justice,  the 
Author  and  preserver  of  Peace,  merciful  to  Offenders,  a  diligent 
observer  of  Ceremonies,  and  would  omit  nothing  belonging  to 
Divine  Worship.  The  Vessels  of  Gold  and  Silver,  Crosses  set 
with  Jewels,  Priestly  Robes  adoru'd  with  Gold  and  Pearls,  the 
arras  Hangings  interwoven  with  Gold  and  Silver,  and  a  Papal 
Crown,  are  yet  to  be  seen  as  Monuments  of  his  Munificence. 
I  do  not  mention  the  many  holy  Books  that  were  transcribed 
by  his  Order  and  Embossed  with  Gold  and  Silver:  but  you 
may  see  the  Pope's  Library,  which  was  wonderfully  augmented 
by  his  care,  and  at  his  charge.  He  was  so  kind  to  the  Relig- 
ious that  he  gave  'em  a  great  deal  of  money  and  Ecclesiastical 
Benefices  besides;  and  canonized  S.  Bernardine  of  Siena,  a 
Frier  Minor,  because  by  his  Preaching,  Admonitions,  Reproofs, 
he  had  almost  extinguish'd  the  Factions  of  Italy,  that  is  to 
say,  the  Guelphs  and  the  Gibelline  Faction,  and  shew'd 
Christians  the  way  to  live  well  and  happily:  whose  Body  is  now 
to  be  seen,  and  daily  visited  with  great  veneration,  at  Aquila. 

PIUS  II. 

******* 
Moreover,  he  so  ordered  his  method  of  living  that  he  could 
never  be  accused  of  idleness  or  sloth.  He  rose  as  soon  as  'twas 
day  for  his  health  sake,  and,  having  said  his  Prayers  very  de- 
voutly, went  about  his  worldly  affairs.  When  he  had  done  his 
morning's  work,  and  walked  about  the  Gardens  for  his  recrea- 
tion, he  went  to  Dinner;  in  which  he  used  an  indifferent  sort 
of  Diet;  not  curious  and  dainty.  For  he  seldom  bid  'em  get 
him  this  or  that  particular  Dish,  but  whatever  they  set  before 
him,  he  ate  of.  He  was  very  abstemious,  and  when  he  did 
drink  wine,  it  was  always  diluted  with  Water,  and  pleasant 
rather  than  rough  upon  the  Palate.  After  meals  he  either  dis- 
coursed or  disputed  half  an  hour  with  his  Chaplains,  and  then 
going  into  his  Bed- Chamber,  he  took  a  nap;  after  which  he 
went  to  Prayers  again,  and  then  wrote  or  read,  as  long  as  his 
business  would  permit.  The  same  also  he  did  after  Supper; 
for  he  both  read  and  dictated  till  midnight  as  he  lay  in  his  Bed; 
nor  did  he  sleep  above  five  or  six  hours.  He  was  a  short  man, 


BARTOLOMMEO   SACCHI,  CALLED  PLATINA.  69 

gray-haired  before  his  time,  and  had  a  wrinkled  face  before  he 
was  old.  In  his  aspect  he  bore  severity  tempered  with  good- 
nature, and  in  his  Garb  was  neither  finical,  nor  negligent,  but 
so  contrived  it,  as  to  be  consistent  with  the  pains  which  he 
usually  took.  He  could  patiently  endure  both  hunger  and 
thirst,  because  he  was  naturally  very  strong;  and  yet  his  long 
journeys,  frequent  labour,  and  Watchings  had  impair'd  him. 
His  usual  Diseases  were  the  Cough,  the  Stone,  and  Gout, 
wherewith  he  was  often  so  tormented,  that  nobody  could  say 
he  was  alive  but  by  his  Voice.  And  even  in  his  sickness  he 
was  very  accessible,  but  sparing  of  Words;  and  unwilling  to 
deny  any  Man's  Petition.  He  laid  out  all  the  Money  he  got 
together;  and  did  neither  love  Gold  nor  contemn  it;  but  would 
never  be  by,  whilst  it  was  told  out,  or  laid  up.  He  seemed 
not  to  cherish  the  Wits  of  his  Age,  because  three  grevious 
Wars  which  he  had  undertook  had  so  continually  exhausted 
the  Pontifical  Treasury  that  he  was  oftentimes  much  in  Debt; 
and  yet  he  preferred  many  learned  men  to  places  both  in  the 
Court,  and  Church.  He  would  willingly  hear  an  Oration,  or 
a  Poem,  and  always  submitted  his  own  Writings  to  the  judg- 
ment of  the  Learned.  He  hated  Lyars  and  Sycophants,  was 
soon  angry  and  soon  pleased  again.  He  pardon' d  those  that 
reviled,  or  scoflF'd  at  him,  unless  they  injur'd  the  See  Aposto- 
lick;  the  Dignity  whereof  he  always  had  such  a  respect  for,  as 
upon  that  account  often  to  fall  out  with  great  Kings  and 
Princes.  He  was  very  kind  to  his  Household  Servants;  for 
those  that  he  found  in  an  errour,  through  folly  or  ignorance, 
he  admonished  like  a  Father.  He  never  reproved  an}'  one  for 
speaking  or  thinking  ill  of  him;  because  in  a  free  city  he  de- 
sired every  body  should  utter  their  minds.  And  when  one 
told  him,  that  he  had  an  ill  Report,  he  reply 'd:  go  unto  the 
Campo  di  Fiore,  and  you'll  hear  a  great  many  talk  against  me. 
If  at  any  time  he  had  a  mind  to  change  the  Air  of  Rome  for  a 
better,  he  went  especially  in  the  Summer,  to  Tivoli,  or  his  own 
Country,  Siena.  But  he  was  mightily  pleased  with  the  retire- 
ment of  an  Abby  in  Siena,  which  is  very  delightful,  and  cool 
too  by  reason  of  its  situation  and  the  shady  Groves  that  are 
about  it.  He  frequented  the  baths  at  Macerata  and  Petriolana 


7O  SOURCE-BOOK  OF  THE  ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

for  his  health's  sake.  He  used  thin  Cloths,  and  his  Expences 
in  Silver  look'd  more  frugal  than  Prince  like.  For  his  whole 
delight  (when  he  had  leisure)  was  in  writing  and  reading:  be- 
cause he  valued  good  Books  more  than  precious  Stones;  for  in 
them  he  said  there  was  great  plenty  of  Gems.  He  so  far  con- 
temn'd  a  splendid  Table,  that  he  went  often  times  to  Fountains, 
Groves,  and  Country  recesses  for  his  own  humour,  where  he 
eutertain'd  himself  not  like  a  Pope,  but  an  honest  humble 
Rustick.  Nor  were  there  wanting  some  who  found  fault  with 
this  his  frequent  change  of  places,  especially  his  Courtiers;  be- 
cause no  Pope  had  ever  done  so  before  him,  unless  in  time  of 
War,  or  of  a  Plague.  But  he  always  slighted  their  Cavils,  and 
said,  that  for  all  his  pleasure  he  never  omitted  any  thing  that 
befitted  the  dignity  of  a  Pope,  or  tended  to  the  good  of  the 
Court.  In  all  places  he  Sealed,  heard  Causes,  Cexisur'd, 
Answer'd,  Asserted  aud  Confuted;  to  give  full  satisfaction  to 
all  sorts  of  men.  He  could  not  eat  willing  alone,  and  therefore 
invited  either  the  Cardinal  of  Spoleta,  of  Trani,  or  of  Pavz'a, 
commonly  to  Dine  or  Sup  with  him.  At  Supper  he  used  to 
discourse  of  Learning,  and  rubb'd  up  his  old  Notions  of  the 
Ancients;  shewing  how  commendable  each  of  'em  was  in  this 
or  that  particular. 

^  *  *  >K  *  *  * 

When  he  was  a  youth  indeed  and  not  yet  initiated  into 
Divinity,  he  set  out  poems  that  were  rather  light,  and  jocular, 
than  serious  and  grave:  and  yet  sometimes  even  in  them  he 
was  elevated,  nor  did  he  want  satyrical  sharpness  amidst  his 
merry  Conceits.  There  are  Epigrams  of  his  extaot,  that  are 
full  of  Wit,  and  he  is  said  to  have  written  about  three  thousand 
Verses,  which  were  lost  most  part  of  'em  at  Basil.  The  re- 
mainder of  his  life  he  wrote  Prose  onely,  his  grand  affairs 
rather  inclining  him  to  it;  but  he  also  loved  a  mixed  stile,  more 
fit  for  Philosophy.  He  set  forth  several  Books  of  Dialogues 
about  the  Power  of  the  Council  at  Basil,  about  the  Rise  of  the 
Nile,  of  Huutiiig,  of  Destiny,  of  God's  Prescience,  and  of  the 
Heresie  in  Bohemia.  He  left  an  imperfect  Dialogue  which  he 
began  against  the  Turks  in  defence  of  Christianity.  He 
digested  his  Epistles  into  their  several  occasions  and  seasons 


BARTOLOMMEO  SACCHI,  CALLED   PLATINA.  7* 

when  they  were  written:  and  those  that  he  wrote  when  he  was" 
a  Layman,  a  Clergy,  a  Bishop,  or  Pope  he  put  into  distinct 
Tomes:  wherein  he  excites  Kings,  Princes,  and  others  to  en- 
gage in  the  War  for  Religion.  There  is  an  Epistle  of  his  ex-- 
taut  which  he  wrote  to  the  Turk,  to  persuade  him  from 
Mahotnetanism  to  the  Christian  Faith.  He  also  wrote  a  Book 
about  the  Life  of  Courtiers;  as  likewise  a  Grammar  for  Ladis- 
laus  the  young  King  of  Hungary.  He  farthermore  composed 
thirty  two  Orations,  exhorting  Kings,  Princes,  and  Common- 
wealths to  Peace,  and  in  defence  of  Religion,  to  promote  the 
quiet  and  Concord  of  the  whole  World.  He  perfected  the  His- 
tory of  Bohemia,  but  left  that  of  Austria  imperfect.  And 
though  he  was  upon  a  History  of  all  the  remarkable  actions  of 
his  Time,  yet  he  was  never  able,  for  his  business,  to  finish  it. 
He  wrote  twelve  Books  and  began  the  thirteenth  of  things 
done  by  himself.  His  Stile  was  soft  and  easie,  in  which  he 
made  several  excellent  and  pertinent  Sermons.  For  he  could 
readily  move  the  Affections  with  handsom  and  graceful  Ex- 
pressions. He  very  aptly  describes  situations  of  Places  and 
Rivers,  assuming  various  ways  of  Eloquence,  as  the  occasion 
required.  He  was  well  acquainted  with  Antiquity;  nor  could 
any  Town  be  mention'd,  but  he  could  tell  its  rise  and  situa- 
tion: besides  that  he  would  give  an  account  in  what  Age 
famous  Men  flourished.  He  would  sometimes  take  notice  of 
Mimicks  for  his  pleasure:  and  left  many  Sayings  behind  him, 
of  which  I  thought  fit  to  add  some  to  this  account  of  his  Life:  to 
wit:  That  the  Divine  Nature  was  better  understood  by  Believ- 
ing than  by  Disputing.  That  all  sects  though  confirm'd  by 
humane  Authority  yet  wanted  Reason.  That  the  Christian 
ought  to  be  received  upon  its  owu  credit,  though  it  had  never 
been  back'd  with  Miracles.  That  there  were  three  Persons  in 
the  Godhead,  not  proved  to  be  so  by  Reason,  but  by  consider- 
ing who  said  so.  That  those  men  who  pretended  to  measure 
the  Heavens  and  the  Earth  were  rather  bold  than  certain  what 
they  did  was  right.  That  to  find  cut  the  motion  of  the  Stars 
had  more  pleasure  in  it,  than  profit.  That  God's  Friends  en- 
joy'd  both  this  Life  and  that  to  come.  That  without  Vertue 
there  was  no  true  Joy.  That  as  a  covetous  man  is  never  satis- 


72  SOURCE-BOOK  OP  THE  ITALIAN  RENAISSANCE. 

fied  with  Money,  so  a  Learned  Man  should  not  be  with  knowl- 
«dg;  But  that  he  who  knew  never  so  much  might  yet  find 
somewhat  to  be  studied.  That  common  Men  should  value 
Learning  as  Silver,  Noblemen  as  Gold,  and  Princes  as  Jewels. 
That  good  Physitians  did  not  seek  the  money  but  the  health  of 
the  party  diseas'd.  That  a  florid  Speech  did  not  move  wise 
men  but  Fools.  That  those  Laws  are  Sacred  which  restrain 
Licentiousness.  That  the  Laws  had  Power  over  the  Common- 
alty, but  were  feeble  to  the  greater  sort.  That  great  Contro- 
versies were  decided  by  the  Sword  and  not  by  the  Laws.  A 
Citizen  should  look  upon  his  Family  as  subject  to  the  City,  the 
City  to  his  Country,  his  Country  to  the  World,  and  the  World 
to  God.  That  the  chief  place  with  Kings  was  slippery.  That 
as  all  Rivers  run  into  the  Sea,  so  do  all  Vices  into  Courts. 
That  Flatterers  draw  Kings  whither  they  please.  That  Kings 
hearken  to  none  more  easily  than  to  Sycophants.  That  the 
tongue  of  a  Flatterer  was  a  King's  greatest  Plague.  That  a 
King  who  would  trust  nobody  was  good  for  nothing,  and  he 
that  believed  everybody  was  no  better.  That  it  is  necessary 
he  that  governs  many  should  himself  be  ruled  by  many.  That 
he  deserv'd  not  the  name  of  a  King  who  measured  the  Publick 
by  his  private  advantage.  That  he  who  neglected  holy  Duties 
did  not  deserve  the  Church  Revenue,  nor  a  King  his  Taxes, 
that  did  not  constant  Justice.  He  said  those  that  went  to  Law 
were  the  Birds;  the  Court,  the  Field;  the  Judg,  the  Net;  and 
the  Lawyers,  the  Fowlers.  That  men  ought  to  be  presented 
to  Dignities  and  not  Dignities  to  the  Men.  That  some  Men 
had  Offices  and  did  not  deserve  'em,  whilst  others  deserv'd  'em 
and  had  'em  not.  That  the  burthen  of  a  Pope  was  heavy,  but 
he  was  happy  who  bore  it  stoutty.  That  an  illiterate  Bishop 
was  like  an  Ass.  That  ill  Physicians  kill'd  the  body  and 
ignorant  Priests  the  Soul.  That  a  wandring  Monk  was  the 
Devil's  Bondslave.  That  Virtue  had  enriched  the  Clergy,  but 
Vice  made  'em  poor.  That  there  was  great  reason  for  the  pro- 
hibiting of  Priests  to  marry,  but  greater  for  allowing  it  again. 
That  no  treasure  was  preferable  to  a  faithful  friend.  That  Life 
was  like  a  friend,  and  Envy  like  Death.  That  he  cherishes  an 
Enemy  who  pardons  his  Son  too  often.  That  a  covetous  Man 


VESPASIANO  DA   BISTICCI.  73 

never  pleases  any  body  but  by  his  Death.  That  Men's  faults 
are  conceal'd  by  Liberality,  and  discover'd  by  Avarice.  That 
it  was  a  slavish  Vice  to  tell  Lyes.  That  the  Use  of  Wine  had 
augmented  the  Cares  and  the  Distempers  of  Mankind.  That 
a  Man  ought  to  take  as  much  Wine  as  would  raise  and  not 
overwhelm  his  Soul.  That  Lust  did  sully  and  stain  every  age 
of  Man,  but  quite  extinguished  old  Age.  That  Gold  itself  and 
Jewels  could  not  purchase  Content.  That  it  was  pleasant  to 
the  Good,  but  terrible  to  the  Bad,  to  Die.  That  a  noble  Death 
was  to  be  preferr'd  before  a  dishonorable  Life  in  the  Opinion 
of  all  Philosophers. 

VESPASIANO  DA  BISTICCI. 

Born  in  Florence,  1421.  Died  1498.  Little  is  known  of  Vespasiano's 
life  beyond  the  fact  that  he  was  a  book-seller,  and  in  this  manner  came 
in  contact  with  the  leading  humanists  and  patrons  of  learning  of  his 
time. 

From  Life  of  Nicholas  V.—The  Papal  Library* 

XXIV.  At  this  time  came  the  year  of  jubilee,  and  since  it 
was  the  true  jubilee,  that  is,  at  the  end  of  a  period  of  fifty  years, 
according  to  the  law  of  the  Church,  the  concourse  of  people  at 
Rome  was  such  that  no  one  had  ever  known  a  greater.  It  was 
a  wonderful  thing  to  see  the  great  assemblage  of  people  who 
came.  In  Rome  and  Florence  the  streets  were  so  crowded  that 
the  people  seemed  like  swarms  of  ants;  and  at  the  bridge  of 
Sant'  Angelo  there  was  such  a  crowd  of  people  of  all  national- 
ities, that  they  were  jammed  together,  and  unable  to  move  in 
any  direction.  So  great  was  the  crowd,  indeed,  that  in  the 
struggle  between  those  who  came  to  seek  indulgences  and  those 
who  were  already  at  the  place,  more  than  two  hundred  persons, 
male  and  female,  lost  their  lives.  When  Pope  Nicholas,  who 
felt  much  anxiety  in  regard  to  these  matters,  heard  of  the  ac- 
cident, he  was  much  displeased,  took  provisions  to  prevent  its 
recurrence,  and  caused  to  be  built  at  the  approach  to  the  bridge 
two  small  churches  in  memory  of  so  great  a  disaster  as  was  this 

*  Vite  di  Vomini  illustri  del  Secolo  XV.  Ed.  Adolfo  Bartoli.  Flor- 
ence, 1859. 


74  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

destruction  of  so  many  men  upon  the  occasion  of  the  jubilee, 
and  he  provided  for  their  burial. 

XXV.  A  great  quantity  of  money  came  by  this  means  to 
the  Apostolic  See,  and  with  this  the  pope  commenced  building 
in  many  places,  and  sent  for  Greek  and  Latin  books,  wher- 
ever he  was  able  to  find  them,  without  regard  to  price.  He 
gathered  together  a  large  band  of  writers,  the  best  that  he  could 
find,  and  kept  them  in  constant  employment.  He  also  sum- 
moned a  number  of  learned  men,  both  for  the  purpose  of  com- 
posing new  works,  and  of  translating  such  works  as  were  not 
already  translated,  giving  them  most  abundant  provision  for 
their  needs  meanwhile;  and  when  the  works  were  translated 
and  brought  to  him,  he  gave  them  large  sums  of  money,  in 
order  that  they  should  do  more  willingly  that  which  they  un- 
dertook to  do.  He  made  great  provision  for  the  needs  of 
learned  men.  He  gathered  together  great  numbers  of  books 
upon  every  subject,  both  Greek  and  L,atin,  to  the  number  of 
5000  volumes.  So  at  his  death  it  was  found  by  inventory  that 
never  since  the  time  of  Ptolemy  had  half  the  number  of  books 
of  every  kind  been  brought  together.  All  books  he  caused  to 
be  copied,  without  regard  to  what  it  cost  him,  and  there  were 
few  places  where  his  Holiness  had  not  copiers  at  work.  When 
he  could  not  find  a  book,  nor  secure  it  in  any  way,  he  had  it 
copied.  After  he  had  assembled  at  Rome,  as  I  said  above, 
many  learned  men  at  large  salaries,  he  wrote  to  Florence  to 
Messer  Giannozzo  Manet ti,  that  he  should  come  to  Rome  to 
translate  and  compose  for  him.  And  when  Manetti  left  Flor- 
ence and  came  to  Rome,  the  pope,  as  was  his  custom,  received 
him  with  honor,  and  assigned  to  him,  in  addition  to  his  income 
as  secretary,  six  hundred  ducats,  urging  him  to  attempt  the 
translation  of  the  books  of  the  Bible  and  of  Aristotle,  and  to 
complete  the  book  already  commenced  by  him,  Contra  Judeos 
el gentes ;  a  wonderful  work,  if  it  had  been  completed,  but  he 
carried  it  only  to  the  tenth  book.  Moreover,  he  translated  the 
New  Testament,  and  the  Psalter  De  hebraica  Veritate,  with  five 
apologetical  books  in  defense  of  this  Psalter;  showing  that  in 
the  Holy  Scriptures  there  is  cot  one  syllable  that  does  not  con- 
tain the  greatest  of  mysteries. 


VESPASIANO   DA   BISTICCI.  75, 

XXVI.  It  was  pope  Nicholas'  intention  to  found  a  library 
in  St.  Peter's,  for  the  general  use  of  the  whole  Roman  curia, 
which  would  have  been  an  admirable  thing  indeed,  if  he  had 
been  able  to  carry  it  out,  but  death  prevented  his  bringing  it 
to  completion.  He  illumined  the  Holy  Scriptures  with  in- 
numerable books,  which  he  caused  to  be  translated;  and  in  the 
same  way  with  the  humanities,  including  certain  works  upon 
grammar,  of  use  in  learning  Latin.  The  Orthography  of  Mes- 
ser  Giovanni  Tortelle,  who  was  of  his  Holiness'  household  and 
worked  upon  the  library,  a  worthy  book  and  useful  to  gramma- 
rians; the  Iliad  of  Homer;  Strabo's  De  situ  orbis  he  caused  to 
be  translated  by  Guerrino,  and  gave  him  500  florins  for  each 
part,  that  is  to  say,  Asia,  Africa  and  Europe;  that  was  in  all 
1500  florins.  Herodotus  and  Thucydides  he  had  translated  by 
Lorenzo  Valla,  and  rewarded  him  liberally  for  his  trouble; 
Xenophon  and  Diodorus  by  Messer  Poggio;  Polybius  by  Nico'.6 
Perotto,  whom,  when  he  handed  it  to  him,  he  gave  500  brand 
new  papal  ducats  in  a  purse,  and  said  to  him,  that  it  was  not. 
what  he  deserved,  but  that  in  time  he  would  take  care  to 
satisfy  him.  The  work  of  Philo  the  Jew,  a  book  of  the  great- 
est worth,  of  which  the  Latin  tongue  had  as  yet  no  knowledge; 
Theophrastus  De  Plantis,  a  most  able  work;  Problemata  Aristo- 
teles ;  these  two  were  translated  by  Theodorus  the  Greek,  a  man 
of  great  learning  and  eloquence.  The  Republic  of  Plato  and. 
his  Laws,  the  Posteriora,  the  Ethics  and  Physics,  Magna  Mora- 
lia,  and  Metaphysics,  the  Greater  Rhetoric,  George  of  Trebi- 
sond.  De  Animalibus  of  Aristotle,  by  Theodorus,  a  most 
excellent  work.  Sacred  works,  the  works  of  Dionysius  the 
Areopagite,  an  admirable  book,  translated  by  Brother  Ambro- 
gio.  There  were  before  this  other  translations  utterly  barba- 
rous. I  was  told  by  pope  Nicholas  that  this  translation  was  so 
good,  that  one  got  a  better  idea  from  the  simple  text  than  from 
the  other  texts  accompanied  with  elaborate  comments.  The 
wonderful  book,  De pr<zparatione  evangelica,  of  Eusebius  Pam- 
phili,  a  work  of  great  erudition.  Many  works  of  St  Basil,  of 
St.  Gregory  of  Nazianzus;  Chrysostom  on  St.  Matthew,  about 
eighty  homilies,  which  had  been  lost  for  500  years  or  more;  for 
twenty-five  homilies  were  translated  by  Orosius  *  more  than  500 
*  (?)  Oronzio  in  the  original. 


76  SOURCE- BOOK   OF  THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

years  ago,  and  the  work  was  much  sought  for  by  ancients  and 
moderns;  for  it  is  written,  that  St.  Thomas  Aquinas,  on  his  way 
to  Paris,  when,  as  he  was  approaching,  the  city  was  pointed  out 
to  him,  said:  "  I  would  rather  at  this  moment  have  St.  John 
Chrysostom  on  St.  Matthew  than  Paris."  Such  a  reputation  it 
had!  This  was  translated  by  George  of  Trebisond.  Cyril  on 
Genesis,  and  on  St.  John,  excellent  works.  Many  other  works 
translated  and  composed  at  the  desire  of  his  Holiness,  of  which 
I  have  no  knowledge.  I  have  mentioned  only  those  of  which 
I  have  knowledge. 

From  Life  of  Frederick  of  Urbino. —  The  Ducal  Library. 

XXVIII.  Coming  to  the  holy  doctors,  who  are  in  Latin,  he 
wished  to  have  all  the  works  of  the  four  doctors;  and  what 
letters!  what  books!  and  how  excellent!  having  no  regard  for 
expense.  The  four  doctors  having  been  finished,  he  then  de- 
sired all  the  works  of  St.  Bernard,  and  all  the  holy  doctors  of 
antiquity;  he  desired  that  none  should  be  wanting:  Tertullian, 
Hilary,  Remi,  Hugh  of  St.  Victor,  Isidore,  Anselm,  Rabanus 
Maurus,  and  all  the  holy  doctors  of  antiquity  that  have  ever 
written.  Coming  from  the  Latins  to  the  sacred  writers  of  the 
Greeks,  which  are  converted  into  Latin,  he  desired  in  Latin 
the  works  of  Dionysius  the  Areopagite,  of  St.  Basil,  Cyril, 
Gregory  of  Nazianzus,  John  of  Damascus,  John  Chrysostom, 
Gregory  of  Nyssa,  Eusebius,  all  his  works,  Ephraem  the 
Monk,  the  most  excellent  writer  Origen.  Coming  to  the 
Latin  doctors,  as  well  in  philosophy  as  in  theology,  all  the 
works  of  St.  Thomas  Aquinas,  all  the  works  of  Albertus 
Magnus,  all  the  works  of  Alexander  of  Hales,  all  the  works  of 
Scotus,  all  the  works  of  Bonaventura,  the  works  of  Richard  of 
Mediavilla;  *  all  the  works  of  the  Archbishop  Antoninus,  and 
all  the  modern  doctors  who  are  of  authority,  he  wished  to  have, 
down  to  the  Conformities  of  St.  Francis;  all  the  works  upon 
civil  law,  most  beautiful  texts;  all  the  lectures  of  Bartolo,  in 
kid-skin,  and  many  writers  in  civil  law.  The  Bible,  most  ex- 
cellent book,  he  had  done  in  two  pictured  volumes,  as  rich  and 

»  Richard  of  Bury  (?). 


VESPASIANO   DA  BISTICCI.  77 

fine  as  might  be  made,  covered  with  gold  brocade,  enriched 
with  silver;  and  he  had  this  done  so  elegantly,  as  the  first  of 
all  writings.  And  all  the  commentaries,  those  of  the  Master 
of  the  Sentences,  of  Nicholas  de  Lyra,  and  all  the  doctors  of 
antiquity  who  have  written  commentaries,  as  well  the  Latins 
as  the  Greeks,  and  all  the  glossary  of  Nicholas  de  Lyra;  this 
is  a  book  like  to  which  in  this  age  no  other  has  been  made. 
All  the  writers  on  astronomy  and  their  commentaries;  all  the 
works  on  geometry  with  commentaries;  all  the  works  on  arith- 
metic; all  the  works  on  architecture,  all  the  works  De  re  mili- 
tari,  all  books  treating  of  the  machines  of  the  ancients  for 
conquering  a  country,  and  those  of  the  moderns,  which  was  a 
very  remarkable  volume.  Books  of  painting,  of  sculpture,  of 
music,  of  canon  law,  and  all  the  texts  and  lectures  and  the 
Summa  of  the  bishop  of  Ostia,  and  more  works  in  this  depart- 
ment. Speculum,  innocentice.  In  medicine  all  the  works  of 
Avicenna,  all  the  works  of  Hippocrates,  of  Galen,  the  Conti- 
nente  of  Almansor  plus  quam  commentum,  all  the  works  of 
Averroes,  both  on  logic  and  on  natural  and  moral  philosophy. 
A  book  of  all  the  ancient  councils;  all  the  works  of  Boetius,  as 
well  on  logic  as  on  philosophy  and  on  music. 

XXIX.  All  the  works  of  the  modern  writers,  commencing 
with  pope  Pius.  He  has  all  the  works  of  Petrarch,  both  Latin 
and  vulgar;  all  the  works  of  Dante,  Latin  and  vulgar;  all  the 
works  of  Boccaccio  in  Latin;  all  the  works  of  messer  Coluccio; 
all  the  works  of  messer  Lionardo  d'  Arezzo,  both  original  and 
translations;  all  the  works  of  Brother  Ambrogio,  original  and 
translations;  all  the  works  of  messer  Gianozzo  Manetti,  as 
well  original  as  translations;  all  the  works  of  Guerrino,  orig- 
inal and  translations;  all  the  works  of  Panormita,  as  well  in 
verse  as  in  prose;  all  the  works  of  messer  Francisco  Filelfo, 
both  in  prose  and  in  verse,  original  and  translations;  all  the 
works  of  Perotti,  translations  and  original;  all  the  works  of 
Campano,  in  prose  and  in  verse;  all  the  original  works  of 
Maffeo  Vegio;  all  the  works  of  Nicolo  Secondino,  translations 
and  original,  he  who  was  interpreter  for  the  Greeks  and  Latins 
at  the  council  of  the  Greeks  in  Florence;  all  the  works  of  Pon- 
tanus,  original  and  translations;  all  the  works  of  Bartolomeo 


78  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE  ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

Fazi,  translations  and  original;  all  the  works  of  Gasparino;  all 
the  works  of  Pietro  Paulo  Vergerio,  original  and  translations; 
all  the  works  of  messer  John  Argyropolus,  translated,  that  is: 
the  whole  of  the  Philosophy  and  Logic  of  Aristotle,  as  well 
moral  as  natural,  except  the  Politics;  all  the  works  of  messer 
Francisco  Barbaro,  translations  and  original;  all  the  works  of 
messer  Leonardo  Giustiniano,  both  original  and  translations; 
all  the  works  of  Donate  Acciaiuoli,  original  and  translations; 
all  the  original  works  of  Alamanno  Renuccini;  all  the  original 
works  of  messer  Cristofano  da  Prato  Vecchio;  all  the  works  of 
messer  Poggio,  both  translations  and  original;  all  the  works  of 
messer  Giovanni  Tortella,  both  original  and  translations;  all 
the  translations  of  messer  Francesco  d'  Arezzo,  who  lived  at 
the  court  of  King  Ferrando;  all  the  works  of  Lorenzo  Valla, 
translations  and  original. 

XXX.  Having  acquired  all  the  books  of  every  department 
which  were  to  be  found,  written  both  by  ancient  and  modern 
doctors,  and  translations  as  well  in  every  branch,  he  desired  to 
have  all  the  Greek  books  that  were  to  be  found;  all  the  works 
of  Aristotle  in  Greek;  all  the  works  of  Plato,  each  volume 
bound  in  the  finest  kid-skin;  all  the  works  of  Homer  in  one 
volume,  the  Iliad,  the  Odyssey  and  the  Batrachomiomachia  ;  all 
the  works  of  Sophocles;  all  the  works  of  Pindar;  all  the  works 
of  Menander;  and  as  well  all  the  poets  that  were  to  be  found  in 
the  Greek  tongue;  all  the  Lives  of  Plutarch,  in  one  most  ex- 
cellent volume;  the  Cosmography  of  Ptolemy,  with  illustra- 
tions, in  Greek,  a  most  excellent  book;  all  the  moral  works  of 
Plutarch,  a  most  worthy  book;  all  the  works  of  Herodotus,  of 
Pausanias,  of  Thucydides,  of  Polybius;  all  the  works  of  De- 
mosthenes and  of  Aeschines;  Plotinus  the  philosopher,  all  his 
works;  all  the  commentaries  that  are  found  among  the  Greeks, 
as  for  example  the  commentaries  upon  Aristotle;  all  the  works 
of  Theophrastus,  the  Physica  de  plantis ;  all  the  Greek  lexi- 
cographers, the  Greek  with  the  Latin  explanation;  all  the 
works  of  Hippocrates  and  of  Galen;  all  the  works  of  Xenophon; 
part  of  the  Bible  in  Greek;  all  the  works  of  St.  Basil;  all  the 
works  of  St.  John  Chrysostom;  all  the  works  of  St.  Athanasius, 
of  St.  John  of  Damascus;  all  the  works  of  St.  Gregory  of 


VESPASIANO   DA   BISTICCI.  79 

Nazianzus,  of  Gregory  of  Nyssa,  of  Origen,  of  Dionysius  the 
Areopagite;  of  John  Climacus,  of  St.  Ephraem  the  Monk,  of 
Aeneas  the  Sophist;  the  Collations  of  John  Cassianus,  the 
Book  of  Paradise,  Vitae  sanctorum  patrum  ex  Aegypto ;  the 
Lives  of  Barlaam  and  Josaphat;  a  Psalter  in  three  tongues,  a 
wonderful  thing,  in  Hebrew,  Greek  and  Latin,  verse  for  verse, 
a  most  excellent  book;  all  the  books  on  geometry,  on  arith- 
metic, and  on  astronomy  that  are  found  in  any  language. 
There  are  numerous  Greek  books,  by  various  authors,  which 
when  he  was  not  able  to  get  them  otherwise,  he  sent  for  them, 
desiring  that  nothing  should  be  wanting  in  any  tongue  which 
it  was  possible  to  acquire.  There  were  to  be  seen  Hebrew 
books,  all  that  could  be  found  in  that  language,  beginning 
with  the  Bible,  and  all  those  who  have  commented  upon  it, 
rabbi  Moses,  and  other  commentators.  Not  only  are  there 
Hebrew  books  on  the  Holy  Scriptures,  but  also  on  medicine, 
on  philosophy  and  in  all  branches,  all  that  could  be  acquired 
in  that  tongue. 

XXXI.  His  Lordship  having  completed  this  worthy  task  at 
the  great  expense  of  more  than  30,000  ducats,  among  the  other 
excellent  and  praiseworthy  arrangements  which  he  made  was 
this,  that  he  undertook  to  give  to  each  writer  a  title,  and  this 
he  desired  should  be  covered  with  crimson  embellished  with 
silver.  He  began,  as  has  been  noted  above,  with  the  Bible,  as 
the  foremost  of  all,  and  had  it  covered,  as  was  said,  with  gold 
brocade.  Then  beginning  with  all  the  doctors  of  the  Church, 
he  had  each  one  covered  with  crimson  and  embellished  with 
silver;  and  so  with  the  Greek  doctors  as  well  as  with  the 
Latins.  As  well  philosophy,  history  and  books  on  medicine 
and  all  the  modern  doctors;  in  such  a  manner  that  there  are 
innumerable  volumes  of  this  kind,  a  thing  gorgeous  to  behold. 
In  this  library  all  the  books  are  beautiful  in  the  highest  de- 
gree, all  written  with  the  pen,  not  one  printed,  that  it  might 
not  be  disgraced  thereby;  all  elegantly  illuminated,  and  there 
is  not  one  that  is  not  written  on  kid  skin.  There  is  a  singular 
thing  about  this  library,  which  is  not  true  of  any  other;  and 
this  is,  that  of  all  the  writers,  sacred  as  well  as  profane,  orig- 
inal works  as  well  as  translations,  not  a  single  page  is  wanting 


80  SOURCE-BOOK  OF  THE  ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

from  their  works,  in  so  far  as  they  are  in  themselves  complete; 
which  cannot  be  said  of  any  other  library,  all  of  which  have 
portions  of  the  works  of  a  writer,  but  not  all;  and  it  is  a  great 
distinction  to  possess  such  perfection.  Some  time  before  I 
went  to  Ferrara,  being  at  Urbino  at  his  Lordship's  court,  and 
having  catalogues  of  all  the  libraries  of  Italy,  commencing 
with  that  of  the  pope,  of  St.  Mark  at  Florence,  of  Pavia, — and 
I  had  even  sent  to  England  to  obtain  a  catalogue  of  the  library 
of  the  university  of  Oxford, — I  compared  these  with  that  of  the 
duke,  and  I  saw  that  all  were  faulty  in  one  particular;  that 
they  had  numerous  copies  of  the  same  work,  but  they  had  not 
all  the  works  of  one  writer  complete  as  this  had;  nor  were 
there  writers  of  every  branch  as  in  this. 

From  the  Life  of  Cosimo  de*  Medici. — Founding  a  Library. 

XII.  When  he  had  finished  the  residence  and  a  good  part 
of  the  church,  he  fell  to  thinking  how  he  should  have  the  place 
peopled  with  honest  men  of  letters;  and  in  this  way  it  occurred 
to  him  to  found  a  fine  library;  and  one  day  when  I  happened 
to  be  present  in  his  chamber,  he  said  to  me:  "In  what  way 
would  you  furnish  this  library  ?  "     I  replied  that  as  for  buying 
the  books  it  would  be  impossible,  for  they  were  not  to  be  had. 
Then  he  said:  "  How  is  it  possible  then  to  furnish  it  ?  "    I  told 
him  that  it  would  be  necessary  to  have  the  books  copied.     He 
asked  in  reply  if  I  would  be  willing  to  undertake  the  task.     I 
answered  him,  that  I  was  willing.     He  told  me  to  commence 
my  work  and  he  would  leave  everything  to  me;  and  as  for  the 
money  that  would  be  necessary  he  would  refer  the  matter  to 
Dom  Archangel,  then  prior  of  the  monastery,  who  would  draw 
bills  upon  the  bank,  which  should  be  paid.     The  library  was 
commenced  at  once,  for  it  was  his  pleasure  that  it  should  be 
done  with  the  utmost  possible  celerity;  and  as  I  did  not  lack 
for  money  I  collected  in  a  short  time  forty- five  writers,  and 
finished  200  volumes  in  twenty-two  months;  in  which  work  we 
made  use  of  an  excellent  arrangement,  that  of  the  library  of 
pope  Nicholas,  which  he  had  given  to  Cosimo,  in  the  form  of  a 
catalogue  made  out  with  his  own  hands. 

XIII.  Coining  to  the  arrangement  of  the  library,  in  the  first 


VKSPASIANO  DA   BISTICCI.  8 1 

place  there  is  the  Bible  and  the  Concordance,  with  all  their 
commentaries,  as  well  ancient  as  modern.  And  the  first  writer 
who  commenced  to  comment  on  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  who 
indicated  the  manner  of  commenting  to  all  others,  was  Origen; 
he  wrote  in  Greek,  and  St.  Jerome  translated  a  part  of  his 
works,  on  the  five  books  of  Moses.  There  are  the  works  of 
St.  Ignatius  the  martyr,  who  wrote  in  Greek,  and  was  a  dis- 
ciple of  St.  John  the  Evangelist;  most  fervent  in  his  Christian 
zeal,  he  wrote  and  preached  and  for  this  won  the  crown  of 
martyrdom.  There  are  the  works  of  St.  Basil,  bishop  of  Cap- 
padocia,  a  Greek;  of  St.  Gregory  of  Nazianzus,  of  Gregory  of 
Nyssa,  his  brother,  of  St.  John  Chrysostom,  of  St.  Athanasius 
of  Alexandria,  of  St.  Kphraem  the  Monk,  of  John  Climacus, 
also  a  Greek;  all  the  works  of  the  Greek  doctors  that  are 
translated  into  Latin  are  there.  Then  follow  the  holy  doctors 
and  holy  writers  in  Latin,  beginning  with  the  works  of  Lac- 
tantius,  who  was  very  ancient  and  had  praiseworthy  qualifica- 
tions; Hilary  of  Poitou,  a  most  solemn  doctor;  St.  Cyprian  of 
Carthage,  most  elegant  and  saintly;  the  works  of  Tertullian, 
the  learned  Carthaginian.  Then  follow  the  four  doctors  of  the 
Latin  church,  and  all  their  works  are  here;  and  there  is  no 
other  library  that  has  these  works  complete.  Then  begin  the 
works  of  St.  Jerome;  all  the  works  of  St.  Gregory  the  moral 
doctor;  all  the  works  of  St.  Bernard  the  Abbot,  of  Hugh  of  St. 
Victor,  of  St.  Anselm,  of  St.  Isidore,  bishop  of  Seville,  of  Bede, 
of  Rabanus  Maurus.  Coming  then  to  the  modern  doctors,  of 
St.  Thomas  Aquinas,  of  Albertus  Magnus,  of  Alexander  of 
Hales,  of  St.  Bonaventura;  the  works  of  the  Archbishop  An- 
tonino  of  Florence,  that  is,  his  Summa. 

XIV.  Coming  to  the  philosophers,  all  the  works  of  Aris- 
totle, both  his  moral  and  natural  Philosophy;  all  the  commen- 
taries of  St.  Thomas  and  Albertus  Magnus  on  the  philosophy 
of  Aristotle,  and  still  other  commentators  upon  the  same;  his 
Logic  and  other  modern  systems  of  Logic.  In  canon  law,  the 
Decretum,  the  Decretals,  Liber  Sextus,  the  Clementines,  the 
Summa  of  the  bishop  of  Ostia  ;  Innocentius  ;  Lectures  of  the 
bishop  of  Ostia  on  the  Decretals;  Giovanni  Andrea,  on  Liber 
Sextus,  and  an  anonymous  lecture  on  the  Decretum,  and  still 


82  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE  ITALIAN  RENAISSANCE. 

other  works  on  canon  law  by  the  abbott  of  Cicilia  and  others. 
Of  histories,  all  the  Ten  of  Livy;  Caesar's  Commentaries;  Sue- 
tonius Tranquillus,  The  Lives  of  the  Emperors ;  Plutarch's 
Lives ;  Quintus  Curtius,  the  Deeds  of  Alexander  the  Great  ; 
Sallust,  De  bello  Jugurthino  et  Catilinario  ;  Valerius  Maximus, 
The  Memorable  Deeds  and  Sayings  of  the  Ancients  ;  Emilius 
Probns,  Great  Leaders  of  Foreign  Peoples ;  a  history  by  Ser 
Zembino,  who  commenced  at  the  beginning  of  the  world,  and 
came  down  to  Pope  Celestine,  a  work  of  great  information;  the 
Ecclesiastical  History  of  Eusebius  Pamphili,  and  De  tempor- 
ibus ;  the  Historiale  of  Vincenzo ;  all  the  works  of  Tully  in 
three  volumes  ;  all  the  works  of  Seneca  in  one  volume  ;  Quin- 
tilian,  De  institutione  oratoria,  and  the  Declamations;  Vocabu- 
lista ;  Nonius  Marcellus;  Pompeius  Festus;  the  Elegantiae  of 
Valla  ;  Papias  ;  Uguccione  ;  Catholicon.  Poets  :  Virgil,  Ter- 
ence, Ovid,  Lucan,  Statius,  the  tragedies  of  Seneca,  Plautus. 
Of  grammarians,  Priscian.  And  all  the  other  works  necessary 
to  a  library,  of  which  no  one  was  wanting;  and  since  there 
were  not  copies  of  all  these  works  in  Florence,  we  sent  to 
Milan,  to  Bologna  and  toother  places,  wherever  they  might  be 
found.  Cosimo  lived  to  see  the  library  wholly  completed,  and 
the  cataloguing  and  the  arranging  of  the  books;  in  all  of  which 
he  took  great  pleasure,  and  the  work  went  forward,  as  was  his 
custom,  with  great  promptness. 

LORENZO  DE'  MEDICI. 

Born  at  Florence,  1449.  Studied  under  the  guidance  of  Ficino  and 
other  literati  of  the  Medicaean  court.  Assumed  chief  political  power  at  the 
age  of  twenty-one,  upon  the  occasion  of  the  death  of  his  father,  Piero, 
and  ruled  until  his  death  in  1492.  Obtained  from  Pope  Innocent  VIII. 
that  his  son  Giovanni  (afterwards  Leo  X.,  b.  1475-d.  1521)  was  made  Car- 
dinal at  the  age  of  fourteen.  Participated  actively  in  the  literary  labors 
of  the  distinguished  group  of  men,  whose  protector  and  support  he  was. 
His  most  important  productions  were  in  verse. 

Lorenzo  de*  Medici  to  Giovanni  de'  Medici,  Cardinal.* 
You,  and  all  of  us  who  are  interested  in  your  welfare,  ought 
to  esteem  ourselves  highly  favored  by  Providence,  not  only  for 

*  From  Roscoe's  Life  of  Lorenzo  de'  Medici. 


LORENZO  DE'    MEDICI.  83 

the  many  honors  and  benefits  bestowed  upon  our  house,  but 
more  particularly  for  having  conferred  upon  us,  in  your  per- 
son, the  greatest  dignity  we  have  ever  enjoyed.  This  favor,  in 
itself  so  important,  is  rendered  still  more  so  by  the  circum- 
stances with  which  it  is  accompanied,  and  especially  by  the 
consideration  of  your  youth  and  of  our  situation  in  the  world. 
The  first  that  I  would  therefore  suggest  to  you  is  that  you 
ought  to  be  grateful  to  God,  and  continually  to  recollect  that 
it  is  not  through  your  merits,  your  prudence,  or  your  solicitude, 
that  this  event  has  taken  place,  but  through  his  favor,  which 
you  can  only  repay  by  a  pious,  chaste  and  exemplary  life;  and 
that  your  obligations  to  the  performance  of  these  duties  are  so 
much  the  greater,  as  in  your  early  years  you  have  given  some 
reasonable  expectations  that  your  riper  age  may  produce  such 
fruits.  It  would  indeed  be  highly  disgraceful,  and  as  contrary 
to  your  duty  as  to  my  hopes,  if,  at  a  time  when  others  display 
a  greater  share  of  reason  and  adopt  a  better  mode  of  life,  you 
should  forget  the  precepts  of  your  youth,  and  forsake  the  path 
in  which  you  have  hitherto  trodden.  Endeavor,  therefore,  to 
alleviate  the  burthen  of  your  early  dignity  by  the  regularity  of 
your  life  and  by  your  perseverance  in  those  studies  which  are 
suitable  to  your  profession.  It  gave  me  great  satisfaction  to 
learn,  that,  in  the  course  of  the  past  year,  you  had  frequently, 
of  your  own  accord,  gone  to  communion  and  confession ;  nor 
do  I  conceive  that  there  is  any  better  way  of  obtaining  the 
favor  of  heaven  than  by  habituating  yourself  to  a  performance 
of  these  and  similar  duties.  This  appears  to  me  to  be  the  most 
suitable  and  useful  advice  which,  in  the  first  instance,  I  can 
possibly  give  you. 

I  well  know,  that  as  you  are  now  to  reside  at  Rome,  that 
sink  of  all  iniquity,  the  difficulty  of  conducting  yourself  by 
these  admonitions  will  be  increased.  The  influence  of  example 
is  itself  prevalent;  but  you  will  probably  meet  with  those  who 
will  particularly  endeavor  to  corrupt  and  incite  you  to  vice; 
because,  as  you  may  yourself  perceive,  your  early  attainment 
to  so  great  a  dignity  is  not  observed  without  envy,  and  those 
who  could  not  prevent  your  receiving  that  honor  will  secretly 
endeavor  to  diminish  it,  by  inducing  you  to  forfeit  the  good 


84  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE  ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

estimation  of  the  public;  thereby  piecipitating  you  into  that 
gulf  into  which  they  had  themselves  fallen;  in  which  attempt, 
the  consideration  of  your  youth  will  give  them  a  confidence  of 
success.  To  these  difficulties  you  ought  to  oppose  yourself 
with  the  greater  firmness,  as  there  is  at  present  less  virtue 
amongst  your  brethren  of  the  college.  I  acknowledge  indeed 
that  several  of  them  are  good  and  learned  men,  whose  lives  are 
exemplar}7,  and  whom  I  would  recommend  to  you  as  patterns 
of  your  conduct.  By  emulating  them  you  will  be  so  much  the 
more  known  and  esteemed,  in  proportion  as  your  age  and  the 
peculiarity  of  your  situation  will  distinguish  you  from  your 
colleagues.  Avoid,  however,  as  you  would  Scylla  or  Chary bd is, 
the  imputation  of  hypocrisy ;  guard  against  all  ostentation, 
either  in  your  conduct  or  your  discourse;  affect  not  austerity, 
nor  ever  appear  too  serious.  This  advice  you  will,  I  hope,  in 
time  understand  and  practice  better  than  I  can  express  it. 

Yet  you  are  not  unacquainted  with  the  great  importance  of 
the  character  which  you  have  to  sustain,  for  you  well  know 
that  all  the  Christian  world  would  prosper  if  the  cardinals  were 
what  they  ought  to  be;  because  in  such  a  case  there  would 
always  be  a  good  pope,  upon  which  the  tranquility  of  Christen- 
dom so  materially  depends.  Endeavor  then  to  render  yourself 
such,  that  if  all  the  rest  resembled  you,  we  might  expect  this 
universal  blessing.  To  give  you  particular  directions  as  to 
your  behavior  and  conversation  would  be  a  matter  of  no  small 
difficulty.  I  shall,  therefore,  only  recommend,  that  in  your 
intercourse  with  the  cardinals  and  other  men  of  rank,  your 
language  be  unassuming  and  respectful,  guiding  yourself, 
however,  by  your  own  reason,  and  not  submitting  to  be  im- 
pelled by  the  passions  of  others,  who,  actuated  by  improper 
motives,  may  pervert  the  use  of  their  reasons.  lyet  it  satisfy 
your  conscience  that  your  conversation  is  without  intentional 
offense;  and  if,  through  impetuosity  of  temper,  any  one  should 
be  offended,  as  his  enmity  is  without  just  cause,  so  it  will  not 
be  very  lasting.  On  this  your  first  visit  to  Rome,  it  will,  how- 
ever, be  more  advisable  for  you  to  listen  to  others  than  to  speak 
much  yourself. 

You  are  now  devoted  to  God  and  the  church:  on  which  ac- 


LORENZO   DE'    MEDICI.  85 

count  you  ought  to  aim  at  being  a  good  ecclesiastic,  and  to 
shew  that  you  prefer  the  honor  and  state  of  the  church  and  of 
the  apostolic  see  to  every  other  consideration.  Nor,  while  you 
keep  this  in  view,  will  it  be  difficult  for  you  to  favor  your  fam- 
ily and  your  native  place.  On  the  contrary,  you  should  be  the 
link  to  bind  this  city  closer  to  the  church,  and  our  family  with 
the  city;  and  although  it  be  impossible  to  foresee  what  acci- 
dents may  happen,  yet  I  doubt  not  but  this  may  be  done  with 
equal  advantage  to  all :  observing,  however,  that  you  are 
always  to  prefer  the  interests  of  the  church. 

You  are  not  only  the  youngest  cardinal  in  the  college,  but 
the  youngest  person  that  ever  was  raised  to  that  rank;  and  you 
ought,  therefore,  to  be  the  most  vigilant  and  unassuming,  not 
giving  others  occasion  to  wait  for  you,  either  in  the  chapel,  the 
consistory  or  upon  deputations.  You  will  soon  get  a  sufficient 
insight  into  the  manners  of  your  brethren.  With  those  of  less 
respectable  character  converse  not  with  too  much  intimacy; 
not  merely  on  account  of  the  circumstance  in  itself,  but  for  the 
sake  of  public  opinion.  Converse  on  general  topics  with  all. 
On  public  occasions,  let  your  equipage  and  address  be  rather 
below  than  above  mediocrity.  A  handsome  house  and  a  well- 
ordered  family  will  be  preferable  to  a  great  retinue  and  a 
splendid  residence.  Endeavor  to  live  with  regularity,  and 
gradually  to  bring  your  expenses  within  those  bounds  which 
in  a  new  establishment  cannot  perhaps  be  expected.  Silk  and 
jewels  are  not  suitable  for  persons  in  your  station.  Your  taste 
will  be  better  shown  in  the  acquisition  of  a  few  elegant  remains 
of  antiquity,  or  in  the  collecting  of  handsome  books,  and  by 
your  attendants  being  learned  and  well-bred  rather  than 
numerous.  Invite  others  to  your  house  oftener  than  you  re- 
ceive invitations.  Practise  neither  too  frequently.  Let  your 
own  food  be  plain,  and  take  sufficient  exercise,  for  those  who 
wear  your  habit  are  soon  liable,  without  great  caution,  to  con- 
tract infirmities.  The  station  of  a  cardinal  is  not  less  secure 
than  elevated;  on  which  account  those  who  arrive  at  it  too 
frequently  become  negligent;  conceiving  their  object  is  attained 
and  that  they  can  preserve  it  with  little  trouble.  This  idea  is 
often  injurious  to  the  life  and  character  of  those  who  entertain 


86  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

it.  Be  attentive,  therefore,  to  your  conduct,  and  confide  in 
others  too  little  rather  than  too  much.  There  is  one  rule  which 
I  would  recommend  to  your  attention  in  preference  to  all  others. 
Rise  early  in  the  morning.  This  will  not  only  contribute  to 
your  health,  but  will  enable  you  to  arrange  and  expedite  the 
business  of  the  day;  and  as  there  are  various  duties  incident  to 
your  station,  such  as  the  performance  of  divine  service,  study- 
ing, giving  audience,  and  so  forth,  you  will  find  the  observance 
of  this  admonition  productive  of  the  greatest  utility.  Another 
very  necessary  precaution,  particularly  on  your  entrance  into 
public  life,  is  to  deliberate  every  evening  on  what  you  may 
have  to  perform  the  following  day,  that  you  may  not  be  unpre- 
pared for  whatever  may  happen.  With  respect  to  your  speak- 
ing in  the  consistory,  it  will  be  most  becoming  for  you  at 
present  to  refer  the  matters  in  debate  to  the  judgment  of  his 
holiness,  alleging  as  a  reason  your  own  youth  and  inexperi- 
ence. You  will  probably  be  desired  to  intercede  for  the  favors 
of  the  pope  on  particular  occasions.  Be  cautious,  however, 
that  you  trouble  him  not  too  often;  for  his  temper  leads  him  to 
be  most  liberal  to  those  who  weary  him  least  with  their  solici- 
tations. This  you  must  observe,  lest  you  should  give  him 
offense,  remembering  also  at  times  to  converse  with  him  on 
more  agreeable  topics;  and  if  you  should  be  obliged  to  request 
some  kindness  from  him,  let  it  be  done  with  that  modesty  and 
humility  which  are  so  pleasing  to  his  disposition.  Farewell. 


NICOLO  MACHIAVELLI. 

Born  at  Florence,  1469.  Entered  at  the  age  of  twenty-nine  into  the 
service  of  the  Signory.  Was  prominent  in  the  affairs  of  the  republic, 
after  the  banishment  of  the  Medici,  until  their  return  in  1512.  Driven 
from  Florence,  he  retired  to  his  patrimony  near  San  Casciano,  and  de- 
voted himself  to  literary  work.  Resumed  his  official  career  under 
Clement  VII.  Died,  1527.  His  greater  works  are  the  Prince,  the  History 
of  Florence,  the  Discourses  on  Livy  and  a  treatise  on  the  Art  of  War. 


NICOI<6  MACHIAVELU.  87 

SELECTIONS  FROM  THE  PRINCE.* 

Chapter  XVII L  How  far  a  Prince  is  obliged  by  his  Promise. 
How  honorable  it  is  for  a  prince  to  keep  his  word,  and  act 
rather  with  integrity  than  collusion,  I  suppose  everybody  un- 
derstands: nevertheless  experience  has  shown  in  our  times 
that  those  princes  who  have  not  pinned  themselves  up  to  that 
punctuality  and  preciseness  have  done  great  things,  and  by 
their  cunning  and  subtilty  not  only  circumvented,  and  darted 
the  brains  of  those  with  whom  they  had  to  deal,  but  have  over- 
come and  been  too  hard  for  those  who  have  been  so  supersti- 
tiously  exact.  For  further  explanation  you  must  understand 
there  are  two  ways  of  contending,  by  law  and  by  force:  the 
first  is  proper  to  men;  the  second  to  beasts;  but  because  man}' 
times  the  first  is  insufficient,  recourse  must  be  had  to  the  sec- 
ond. It  belongs,  therefore,  to  a  prince  to  understand  both, 
when  to  make  use  of  the  rational  and  when  of  the  brutal  way; 
and  this  is  recommended  to  princes,  though  abstrusely,  by 
ancient  writers,  who  tell  them  how  Achilles  and  several  other 
princes  were  committed  to  the  education  of  Chiron  the  Centaur, 
who  was  to  keep  them  under  his  discipline,  choosing  them  a 
master,  half  man  and  half  beast,  for  no  other  reason  but  to 
show  how  necessary  it  is  for  a  prince  to  be  acquainted  with 
both,  for  that  one  without  the  other  will  be  of  little  duration. 
Seeing,  therefore,  it  is  of  such  importance  to  a  prince  to  take 
upon  him  the  nature  and  disposition  of  a  beast,  of  all  the  whole 
flock  he  ought  to  imitate  the  lion  and  the  fox;  for  the  lion  is 
in  danger  of  toils  and  snares,  and  the  fox  of  the  wolf ;  so  that 
he  must  be  a  fox  to  find  out  the  snares,  and  a  lion  to  fight 
away  the  wolves,  but  they  who  keep  wholly  to  the  lion  have 
no  true  notion  of  themselves.  A  prince,  therefore,  who  is  wise 
and  prudent,  cannot  or  ought  not  to  keep  his  parole,  when  the 
keeping  of  it  is  to  his  prejudice,  and  the  causes  for  which  he 
promised  removed.  Were  men  all  good  this  doctrine  was  not 
to  be  taught,  but  because  they  are  wicked  and  not  likely  to  be 
punctual  with  you,  you  are  not  obliged  to  any  such  strictness 

*  Morley's  edition  in  the  Universal  Library,  in  which  the  reading  of 
the  folio  of  1674  has  been  reproduced. 


88  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   ITALIAN  RENAISSANCE. 

with  them;  nor  was  there  ever  any  prince  that  wanted  lawful 
pretence  to  justify  his  breach  of  promise.  I  might  instance  in 
many  modern  examples,  and  show  how  many  confederations, 
and  peaces,  and  promises  have  been  broken  by  the  infidelity 
of  princes,  and  how  he  that  best  personated  the  fox  had  the 
better  success.  Nevertheless,  it  is  of  great  consequence  to  dis 
guise  your  inclination,  and  to  play  the  hypocrite  well;  and  men 
are  so  simple  in  their  temper  and  so  submissive  to  their  pres- 
ent necessities,  that  he  that  is  neat  and  cleanly  in  his  collusions 
shall  never  want  people  to  practice  them  upon.  I  cannot  for- 
bear one  example  which  is  still  fresh  in  our  memory.  Alex- 
ander VI.  never  did,  nor  thought  of,  anything  but  cheating, 
and  never  wanted  matter  to  work  upon;  and  though  no  man 
promised  a  thing  with  greater  asseveration,  nor  confirmed  it 
with  more  oaths  and  imprecations,  and  observed  them  less,  yet 
understanding  the  world  well  he  never  miscarried. 

A  prince,  therefore,  is  not  obliged  to  have  all  the  fore-men- 
tioned good  qualities  in  reality,  but  it  is  necessary  to  have 
them  in  appearance:  nay,  I  will  be  bold  to  affirm  that,  having 
them  actually,  and  employing  them  upon  all  occasions,  they 
are  extremely  prejudicial,  whereas,  having  them  only  in  ap- 
pearance, they  turn  to  better  account;  it  is  honorable  to  seem 
mild,  and  merciful,  and  courteous,  and  religious,  and  sincere, 
and  indeed  to  be  so,  provided  your  mind  be  so  rectified  and 
prepared  that  you  can  act  quite  contrary  upon  occasion.  And 
this  must  be  premised,  that  a  prince,  especially  if  come  but 
lately  to  the  throne,  cannot  observe  all  those  things  exactly 
which  make  men  be  esteemed  virtuous,  being  often  necessi- 
tated, for  the  preservation  of  his  State,  to  do  things  inhuman, 
uncharitable  and  irreligious;  and,  therefore,  it  is  convenient 
his  mind  be  at  his  command,  and  flexible  to  all  the  puffs  and 
variations  of  fortune;  not  forbearing  to  be  good  whilst  it  is  in 
his  choice,  but  knowing  how  to  be  evil  when  there  is  a  neces- 
sity. A  prince,  then,  is  to  have  particular  care  that  nothing 
falls  from  his  mouth  but  what  is  full  of  the  five  qualities  afore- 
said, and  that  to  see  and  to  hear  him  he  appears  all  goodness, 
integrity,  humanity  and  religion,  which  last  he  ought  to  pre- 
tend to  more  than  ordinarily,  because  more  men  do  judge 


NICOL6  MACHIAVEIvLI.  89 

by  the  eye  than  by  the  touch;  for  everybody  sees,  but  few 
understand;  everybody  sees  how  you  appear,  but  few  know 
what  in  reality  you  are,  and  those  few  dare  not  oppose  the 
opinion  of  the  multitude,  who  have  the  majesty  of  their  prince 
to  defend  them;  and  in  the  actions  of  all  men,  especially 
princes,  where  no  man  has  power  to  judge,  every  one  looks  to 
the  end.  L,et  a  prince,  therefore,  do  what  he  can  to  preserve 
his  life  and  continue  his  supremacy,  the  means  which  he  uses 
shall  be  thought  honorable,  and  be  commended  by  everybody; 
because  the  people  are  always  taken  with  the  appearance  and 
event  of  things,  and  the  greatest  part  of  the  world  consists  of 
the  people;  those  few  who  are  wise  taking  place  when  the  mul- 
titude has  nothing  else  to  rely  upon.  There  is  a  prince  at  this 
time  in  being  (but  his  name  I  shall  conceal)  who  has  nothing 
in  his  mouth  but  fidelity  and  peace;  and  yet  had  he  exercised 
either  the  one  or  the  other,  they  had  robbed  him  before  this  of 
both  his  power  and  reputation. 

Chapter  XXVI.     An  Exhortation  to  Deliver  Italy  from  the 
Barbarians. 

Having  weighed,  therefore,  all  that  is  said  before,  and  con- 
sidered seriously  with  myself  whether  in  this  juncture  of  affairs 
in  Italy  the  times  were  disposed  for  the  advancement  of  a  new 
prince,  and  whether  there  was  competent  matter  that  could 
give  occasion  to  a  virtuous  and  wise  person  to  introduce  such  a 
form  as  would  bring  reputation  to  him  and  benefit  to  all  his 
subjects,  it  seems  to  me  that  at  this  present  so  many  things 
concur  to  the  exaltation  of  a  new  prince  that  I  do  not  know 
any  time  that  has  been  more  proper  than  this;  and  if,  as  I  said 
before,  for  the  manifestation  of  the  courage  of  Moses  it  was 
necessary  that  the  Israelites  should  be  captives  in  Egypt ;  for 
discovery  of  the  magnanimity  of  Cyrus,  that  the  Persians 
should  be  oppressed  by  the  Medes  ;  and  for  the  illustration  of 
the  excellence  of  Theseus,  that  the  Athenians  should  be  ban- 
ished and  dispersed;  so  to  evince  and  demonstrate  the  courage 
of  an  Italian  spirit  it  was  necessary  that  Italy  should  be  re- 
duced to  its  present  condition;  that  it  should  be  in  greater 
bondage  than  the  Jews,  in  greater  servitude  than  the  Persians, 
and  in  greater  dispersion  than  the  Athenians ;  without  head, 


9O  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

without  order,  harassed,  spoiled,  overcome,  overrun,  and  over- 
flown with  all  kinds  of  calamity;  and  though  formerly  some 
sparks  of  virtue  have  appeared  in  some  persons  that  might 
give  it  hopes  that  God  had  ordained  them  for  its  redemption, 
yet  it  was  found  afterwards  that  in  the  very  height  and  career 
of  their  exploits  they  were  checked  and  forsaken  by  fortune, 
and  poor  Italy  left  half  dead,  expecting  who  would  be  her  Sa- 
maritan to  bind  up  her  wounds,  put  an  end  to  the  sackings  and 
devastations  in  I/ombardy,  the  taxes  and  expilations  in  the 
kingdom  of  Naples  and  Tuscany,  and  cure  her  sores  which 
length  of  time  had  festered  and  i in posthu mated.  It  is  manifest 
how  she  prays  to  God  daily  to  send  some  person  who  may  re- 
deem her  from  the  cruelty  and  insolence  of  the  barbarians.  It 
is  manifest  how  prone  and  ready  she  is  to  follow  the  banner 
that  any  man  will  take  up;  nor  is  it  at  present  to  be  discerned 
where  she  can  repose  her  hopes  with  more  probability  than  in 
your  illustrious  family,*  which  by  its  own  courage  and  interest 
and  the  favor  of  God  and  the  Church  (of  which  it  is  now  chief), 
may  be  induced  to  make  itself  head  in  her  redemption;  which 
will  be  no  hard  matter  to  be  effected  if  you  lay  before  you  the 
lives  and  actions  of  the  persons  above  named;  who  though  they 
were  rare  and  wonderful  were  yet  but  men,  and  not  accommo- 
dated with  so  fair  circumstances  as  you.  Their  enterprise  was 
not  more  just  nor  easy,  nor  God  Almighty  more  their  friend 
than  yours.  You  have  justice  on  your  side;  for  that  war  is 
just  which  is  necessary,  and  it  is  piety  to  fight  where  no  hope 
is  left  in  anything  else.  The  people  are  universally  disposed, 
and  where  the  disposition  is  so  great  the  opposition  can  be  but 
small,  especially  you  taking  your  rules  from  those  persons 
which  I  have  proposed  to  you  for  a  model. 

Besides,  many  things  that  they  did  were  supernatural,  and 
by  God's  immediate  conduct  the  sea  opened,  a  cloud  directed, 
a  rock  afforded  water,  it  rained  manna;  all  these  things  are 
recompensed  in  your  grandeur,  and  the  rest  remains  to  be  exe- 
cuted by  you.  God  will  not  do  everything  immediately,  be- 
cause He  will  not  deprive  us  of  our  free  will  and  the  honour 
that  devolves  upon  us.  Nor  is  it  any  wonder  if  none  of  the 

*  "The  Prince"  was  addressed  to  Lorenzo,  son  of  Piero  de'  Medici. 


NICOL6   MACHIAVEUJ.  91 

aforenamed  Italians  have  been  able  to  do  that  which  may  be 
hoped  for  from  your  illustrious  family;  and  if  in  so  many  revo- 
lutions in  Italy,  and  so  long  continuation  of  war,  their  military 
virtue  seems  spent  and  extinguished,  the  reason  is,  their  old 
discipline  was  not  good,  and  nobody  was  able  to  direct  a  better. 
Nothing  makes  so  much  to  the  honour  of  a  new  prince  as  new 
laws  and  new  orders  invented  by  him,  which,  if  they  be  well 
founded,  and  carry  anything  of  grandeur  along  with  them,  do 
render  him  venerable  and  wonderful;  and  Italy  is  susceptible 
enough  of  any  new  form.  Their  courage  is  great  enough  in 
the  soldier  if  it  be  not  wanting  in  the  officer;  witness  the  duels 
and  combats,  in  which  the  Italians  have  generally  the  better 
by  their  force  and  dexterity  and  stratagem;  but  come  to  their 
battles,  and  they  have  often  the  worse,  and  all  from  the  inex- 
perience of  their  commanders;  for  those  who  pretend  to  have 
skill  will  never  obey,  and  every  one  thinks  he  has  skill,  there 
having  been  nobody  to  this  very  day  raised  by  his  virtue  and 
fortune  to  that  height  of  reputation  as  to  prevail  with  others  to 
obey  him.  Hence  it  came  that,  in  so  long  time,  in  the  many 
wars  during  the  last  twenty  years,  whenever  an  army  con- 
sisted wholly  of  Italians,  it  was  certain  to  be  beaten;  and  this 
may  be  testified  by  Tarns,  Alexandria,  Capua,  Genoa,  Vaila,. 
Bologna,  and  Mestri.  If  therefore,  your  illustrious  family  be 
inclined  to  follow  the  examples  of  those  excellent  persons  who 
redeemed  their  countries,  it  is  necessary,  as  a  true  fundamental 
of  all  great  enterprises,  to  provide  yourselves  with  forces  of 
your  own  subjects,  for  you  cannot  have  more  faithful  nor  bet- 
ter soldiers  than  they.  And  though  all  of  them  be  good,  yet 
altogether  they  will  be  much  better  when  they  find  themselves 
not  only  commanded,  but  preferred  and  caressed  by  a  prince  of 
their  own.  It  is  necessary,  therefore,  to  be  furnished  with 
these  forces  before  you  can  be  able  with  Italian  virtue  to  vindi- 
cate your  country  from  the  oppression  of  strangers.  And 
though  the  Swiss  and  Spanish  infantry  be  counted  terrible, 
they  have  both  of  them  their  defects;  and  a  third  sort  may  be 
composed  that  may  not  only  encounter  but  be  confident  to  beat 
them;  for  the  Spanish  foot  cannot  deal  with  horse,  and  the 
Swiss  are  not  invincible  when  they  meet  with  foot  as  obstinate 


92  SOURCE- BOOK   OF  THE  ITALIAN  RENAISSANCE. 

as  themselves.  It  has  been  seen  by  experience,  and  would  be 
so  again,  the  Spaniards  cannot  sustain  the  fury  of  the  French 
cavalry,  and  the  Swiss  have  been  overthrown  by  the  infantry 
of  Spain.  And  though  of  this  last  we  have  seen  no  perfect 
experiment,  yet  we  had  a  competent  essay  at  the  battle  of 
Ravenna,  where  the  Spanish  foot  being  engaged  with  the 
German  battalions  (which  observe  the  same  order  and  disci- 
pline as  the  Swiss),  the  Spaniards,  by  the  agility  of  their 
bodies  and  the  protection  of  their  bucklers,  broke  in  under 
their  pikes  and  killed  them  securely,  while  the  poor  Germans 
were  incapable  to  defend  themselves;  and  had  not  the  Span- 
iards been  charged  by  the  horse,  the  German  foot  had  been 
certainly  cut  off.  It  is  possible,  therefore,  the  defect  of  both 
those  foot  being  known,  to  institute  a  third  which  may  buckle 
with  the  horse  and  be  in  no  fear  of  their  foot;  which  will  be 
effected  not  by  the  variation  of  their  arms,  but  by  changing 
their  discipline.  And  these  are  some  of  those  things  which, 
being  newly  reformed,  give  great  grandeur  and  reputation  to 
any  new  prince.  This  opportunity,  therefore,  is  by  no  means 
to  be  slipped,  that  Italy,  after  so  long  expectation,  may  see 
some  hopes  of  deliverance.  Nor  can  it  be  expressed  with  what 
joy,  with  what  impatience  of  revenge,  with  what  fidelity,  with 
what  compassion,  with  what  tears  such  a  champion  would  be 
received  into  all  the  provinces  that  have  suffered  by  those  bar- 
barous inundations.  What  gates  would  be  shut  against  him? 
What  people  would  deny  him  obedience?  What  malice  would 
oppose  him  ?  What  true  Italian  would  refuse  to  follow  him  ? 
There  is  not  anybody  but  abhors  and  nauseates  this  barbarous 
domination.  L,et  your  illustrious  family,  then,  address  itself 
to  the  work  with  as  much  courage  and  confidence  as  just  enter- 
prises are  undertaken;  that  under  their  ensigns  our  country 
may  be  recovered,  and  under  their  conduct  Petrarch's  prophecy 
may  be  fulfilled,  who  promised  that — 

Virtu  contra  furore 

Prenderd  /'  arme,  efra'l  (ombatter  corto  : 

Che  rantico  valore 

NegV  Italici  cor  non  I  ancor  morto. 

Virtue  shall  arm  'gainst  rage,  and  in  short  fight 
Prove  the  Roman  valour's  not  extinguished  quite. 


BALD  ASS  ARE  CASTIGUONE.  93 

BALDASSARE  CASTIGLIONE. 

Born  at  Casatico,  near  Mantua,  1478,  and  educated  at  Milan.  Was  one 
of  the  most  distinguished  diplomats  of  his  time,  taking  service  first  under 
Ludovico  Sforza,  duke  of  Milan,  later  with  the  dukes  of  Urbino,  and  in 
1524  was  sent  to  Spain,  to  arrange  a  dispute  between  Clement  VII.  and 
Charles  V.  His  mission  was  unsuccessful;  but  he  remained  in  Spain, 
was  made  bishop  of  Avila,  and  died  at  Toledo  in  1529. 

EXTRACTS   FROM  THE   COURTIER.* 

Letters  not  Beneath  the  Notice  of  a  Courtier. 

But  besides  goodnesse  the  true  and  principall  ornament  of 
the  rninde  in  every  man  (I  believe)  are  letters,  although  ye 
Frenchmen  know  onely  the  nobleness  of  armes,  and  passe  for 
nothing  beside:  so  that  they  not  only  doe  not  set  by  letters, 
but  they  rather  abhorre  them,  and  all  learned  men  they  doe 
count  very  rascalles,  and  they  think  it  a  great  villany  when 
any  one  of  them  is  called  a  clarke. 

Then  answered  the  L,ord  Magnifico,  you  say  very  true,  this 
error  in  deed  hath  longe  raigned  among  the  Frenchmen,  But  if 
Monseigneur  de  Angoulesme  have  so  good  luck  that  he  may 
(as  men  hope)  succeede  in  the  Crowne,  the  glory  of  arms  in 
France  doth  not  so  florish  nor  is  had  in  such  estimation,  as 
letters  will  be,  I  believe. 

For  it  is  not  long  sins  I  was  in  France,  and  saw  this  Prince 
in  the  Court  there,  who  seemed  unto  mee  beside  the  handsom- 
nesse  of  person  and  bewtie  of  visage,  to  have  in  his  counten- 
ance so  great  a  maiestie,  accompanied  nevertheless  with  a  cer- 
taine  lovely  courtesie,  that  the  realme  of  France  shoulde  ever 
seeme  unto  him  a  small  matter. 

I  understood  afterwarde  by  many  gentlemen  both  French 
and  Italian,  very  much  of  the  most  noble  conditions,  of  the 
greatness  of  courage,  prowesse  and  liberalitie  that  was  in  him: 
and  among  other  things,  it  was  told  me,  that  hee  highly  loved 
and  esteemed  letters,  and  had  in  very  great  reputation  all 

*  The  Courtier  of  Count  Baldesar  Castillo,  devided  into  foure  Bookes, 
verie  necessarie  and  profitable  for  young  Gentlemen  and  Gentle  women 
abiding  in  Court,  Pallace  or  Place,  done  into  English  by  Thomas  Hobby  ^ 
London,  Printed  by  John  Wolfe,  1588. 


94  SOURCE- BOOK   OF  THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

learned  men,  and  blamed  the  Frenchmen  themselves  that  their 
mindes  were  so  far  wide  from  this  profession,  especially  having 
at  their  doores  so  noble  an  universitie  as  Paris  is,  where  all 
the  world  resorteth. 

Then  spake  the  Count:  It  is  great  wonder  that  in  these 
tender  yeares,  onely  by  the  provocation  of  nature,  contrarie  to 
the  manner  of  the  countrie,  he  hath  given  him  self  to  so  good 
a  way.  And  because  subiectes  follow  alwaies  the  conditions 
of  the  higher  powers,  it  is  possible  that  it  may  come  to  passe 
(as  you  say)  that  ye  Frenchmen  will  yet  esteeme  letters  to  be 
of  that  dignitie  that  they  are  in  deede.  The  which  (if  they 
will  give  eare  thereto)  they  may  soone  bee  perswaded. 

Forsomuch  as  men  ought  to  covet  of  nature  nothing  so  much, 
and  nothing  is  more  proper  for  them,  than  knowledge:  which 
thing  it  were  a  great  folly  to  say  or  to  holde  opinion  that  it  is 
not  alwaies  good. 

And  in  case  I  might  commune  with  them,  or  with  other  that 
were  of  a  contrary  opinion  to  me,  I  would  doe  my  diligence  to 
shew  them,  how  much  letters  (which  undoubtedlye  have  beene 
granted  of  God  unto  men  for  a  soveraigne  gift)  are  profitable 
and  necessarie  for  our  life  and  estimation.  Neither  should  I 
want  the  examples  of  so  many  excellent  captaines  of  old  time, 
which  all  ioyned  the  ornament  of  letters  with  prowesse  of 
armes. 

For  (as  you  know)  Alexander  had  Homer  in  such  reverence, 
that  he  laide  his  Ilias  alwaies  under  his  beds  heade:  and  he 
applied  diligently  not  these  studies  onely,  but  also  the  Specu- 
lations of  Philosophy  under  the  discipline  of  Aristotle. 

Alcibiades  increased  his  good  conditions  and  made  them 
greater  with  letters,  and  with  the  instructions  of  Socrates. 

Also  what  diligence  Cesar  used  in  studies,  those  thinges 
which  he  had  so  divinelye  written  him  selfe,  make  triall. 

It  is  saide  that  Scipio  Affricanus  carried  alwaies  in  his  hand 
the  bookes  of  Xenophon,  wherein  under  the  name  of  Cyrus  he 
instructeth  a  perfect  King. 

I  coulde  recite  unto  you  Lucullus,  Sylla,  Pompeius,  Brutus, 
and  many  other  Romanes  and  Grecians,  but  I  woulde  doe  no 
more  but  make  mention  of  Hannibal,  which  being  so  excellent 


BALDASSARE   CASTIGUONE.  95 

a  Captaine  (yet  for  all  that  of  a  fierce  nature  and  voide  of  all 
humanity,  an  untrue  dealer,  and  a  despiser  of  men  and  of  the 
Gods)  has  also  understanding  in  letters,  and  the  knowledge  of 
the  greeke  tongue. 

And  if  I  be  not  deceived  (I  trow)  I  have  redde  in  my  time, 
that  he  left  a  booke  behinde  him  of  his  own  making  in  the 
Greeke  tongue.  But  this  kinde  of  talke  is  more  than  needeth: 
for  I  knowe  all  you  understand  how  much  the  Frenchmen  be 
deceived  in  holding  opinion  letters  to  doe  any  hurt  to  armes. 

You  know  in  great  matters  and  adventures  in  wars  the  true 
provocation  is  glory:  and  who  so  for  lucres  sake  or  for  any 
other  consideration  taketh  it  in  hande  (beside  that  hee  never 
doth  any  thing  worthie  prayse)  deserveth  not  the  name  of  a 
gentleman,  but  is  a  most  vile  merchant. 

And  every  man  may  conceive  it  to  be  true  glory,  that  is 
stored  up  in  the  holy  treasure  of  letters,  except  such  unluckie 
creatures  as  have  no  taste  thereof. 

What  minde  is  so  fainte,  so  bashfull,  and  of  so  base  a 
courage,  that  in  reading  the  acts  and  greatnes  of  Cesar,  Alex- 
ander, Scipio,  Annibal,  and  so  many  other,  is  not  incensed 
with  a  most  fervent  longing  to  be  like  them;  and  doth  not  pre- 
ferre  the  getting  of  that  perpetuall  fame,  before  the  rotten  life 
that  lasteth  two  days  ?  Which  in  despite  of  death  maketh  him 
live  a  great  deale  more  famous  than  before. 

But  he  that  savoureth  not  the  sweetness  of  letters,  can  not 
know  how  much  is  the  greatness  of  glory,  which  is  a  long 
while  preserved  by  them,  and  onely  measureth  it  with  the  age 
of  one  or  two  men,  for  further  he  beareth  not  in  minde.  There- 
fore can  he  not  esteeme  this  short  glory  so  much  as  he  would 
doe  that,  which  (in  a  manner)  is  everlasting,  if  by  his  ill  happe 
hee  were  not  barred  from  the  knowledge  of  it.  And  not  pass- 
ing upon  it  so  much,  reason  perswadeth,  and  a  man  may  well 
believe  hee  will  never  hazard  himselfe  so  much  to  come  by  it, 
as  hee  that  knoweth  it. 

I  woulde  not  now  some  one  of  the  contrarie  parte  should 
alledge  unto  mee  the  contrarie  effects  to  confute  mine  opinion 
with  all:  and  tell  mee  how  the  Italians  with  their  knowledge 
of  letters  have  shewed  small  prowesse  in  armes  from  a  cer- 


g6  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   ITALIAN  RENAISSANCE. 

taine  time  hetherto,  the  which  nevertheless  is  too  true:  but  in 
very  deed  a  man  may  well  say  that  the  offence  of  a  few,  hath 
brought  (beside  the  great  damage)  an  everlasting  reproach 
unto  all  other,  and  the  verie  cause  of  our  confusion,  and  of  the 
neglecting  of  Vertue  in  our  miudes  (if  it  bee  not  cleane  deade) 
proceeded  of  them.  But  it  were  a  more  shamef  ull  matter  unto 
us  to  publish  it,  than  unto  the  Frenchmen  the  ignorance  in 
letters. 

Therefore  it  is  better  to  passe  that  over  with  silence  that 
cannot  bee  rehearsed  without  Sorrow,  and  leaving  this  purpose 
into  the  which  I  am  entred  against  my  wil,  returne  againe  unto 
our  Courtier,  whom  in  letters  I  will  have  to  be  more  than  in- 
differently well  scene,  at  the  least  in  those  studies,  which  they 
call  Hurnanitie  and  to  have  not  onely  the  understanding  of  the 
Latin  tongue,  but  also  of  the  greek,  because  of  the  many  and 
sundrie  things  that  with  great  excellencie  are  written  in  it. 

Let  him  much  exercise  him  selfe  in  Poets,  and  no  lesse  in 
Oratours  and  Historiographers,  and  also  in  writing  both  rime 
and  prose,  and  especially  in  this  our  vulgar  tongue.  For 
beside  the  contentation  that  hee  shall  receive  thereby  him 
selfe,  hee  shall  by  this  meanes  never  want  pleasant  intertaine- 
ments  with  women  which  ordinarily  love  such  matters. 

And  if  by  reason  either  of  his  other  businesses  besides,  or  of 
his  slender  studie  hee  shall  not  attaine  unto  that  perfection 
that  his  writings  may  bee  worthy  much  commendation,  let 
him  bee  circumspect  in  keeping  them  close,  least  he  make 
other  men  to  laugh  at  him.  Onely  hee  may  shew  them  to  a 
friende  whom  he  may  trust. 

For  at  least  wise  hee  shall  receive  so  much  profit,  that  by 
that  exercise  hee  shall  be  able  to  give  his  iudgement  upon  other 
men's  doings.  For  it  happeneth  very  seldome,  that  a  man  not 
exercised  in  writing,  how  learned  soever  he  be,  can  at  any 
time  know  perfectly  the  labour  and  toile  of  writers,  or  tast  of 
the  sweetnesse  and  excellencey  of  styles,  and  those  inner  ob- 
servations that  often  times  are  founde  in  them  of  olde  time. 

And  besides  that,  those  studies  shal  make  him  copious,  and 
(as  Anstippus  answered  a  Tirant)  bold  to  speake  upon  a  good 
ground  with  every  man. 


BALDASSARB   CASTIGUONE.  9 

Notwithstanding  I  will  have  our  Courtier  to  keepe  fast  in 
Iris  minde  one  lesson,  and  that  is  this,  to  bee  alwaies  wane 
both  in  this  and  in  everie  other  point,  and  rather  fearefull  than 
bolde,  and  beware  that  hee  perswade  not  himself  falsly,  to 
know  the  thing  hee  knoweth  not  in  deede. 

Because  we  are  of  nature  all  the  sort  of  us  much  more  greedy 
of  praise  than  is  requisite,  and  better  do  our  eares  love  the 
melodic  of  wordes  sounding  to  our  praise,  than  any  other  song 
or  sound  that  is  most  sweete.  And  therefore  many  times  like 
the  voyces  of  marmaidens,  they  are  the  cause  of  drowning  of 
him  that  doth  not  well  stoppe  his  eares  at  such  deceitful 
harmony. 

This  danger  being  perceived,  there  hath  beene  among  the 
auncient  wise  men  that  have  writen  bookes,  how  a  man  should 
knowe  a  true  friend  from  a  flatterer.  But  what  availeth  it  ? 
If  there  bee  many  of  them  (or  rather  infinite)  that  manifestly 
perceive  they  are  flattered,  and  yet  love  him  that  flattereth. 
them,  and  hate  him  that  telleth  them  the  troth. 

And  oftentimes  (standing  in  opinion  that  he  that  prayseth 
them  is  too  scarce  in  his  wordes)  they  them  selves  helpe  him 
forwarde,  and  utter  such  matters  of  themselves,  that  the  most 
impudent  flatterer  of  all  is  ashamed  of. 

Let  us  leave  these  blinde  buzzards  in  their  owne  errour,  and 
make  our  Courtier  of  so  good  a  Judgement,  that  he  will  not 
bee  given  to  understand  blacke  for  white,  nor  presume  more  of 
himselfe  than  what  he  knoweth  very  manifestly  to  be  true,  and 
especially  in  those  thinges,  which  (if  yee  beare  well  in  minde) 
the  Lorde  Cesar  rehearsed  in  his  devise  of  pastimes,  that  we 
have  many  times  used  for  an  instrument  to  make  many  be- 
come foolish.  But  rather  that  he  may  be  assured  not  to  fall 
into  any  error,  where  he  knoweth  those  prayses  that  are  given 
him  to  be  true,  let  him  not  so  openly  consent  to  them,  nor  con- 
firme  them  so  without  resistance,  but  rather  with  modestie 
(in  a  manner)  deny  them  cleane,  shewing  alwaies  and  count- 
ing in  effect,  armes  to  bee  his  principall  profession,  and  all  the 
other  good  qualities  for  an  ornament  thereof. 

And  principally  among  Souldiers,  least  hee  bee  like  unto 
them  that  in  learning  will  seeme  men  of  warre,  and  among 
men  of  warre,  learned. 


98  SOURCE-BOOK  OP  THE  ITALIAN  RENAISSANCE. 

The  Perfect  Courtier. 

But  to  come  to  some  particularitie,  I  iudge  the  principall 
and  true  profession  of  a  Courtier  ought  to  bee  in  feates  of 
armes,  the  which  above  all  I  will  have  him  to  practise  lively, 
and  to  bee  knowne  among  other  of  his  hardines,  for  his 
atchteving  of  enterprises,  and  for  his  fidelitie  towarde  him 
whom  he  serveth.  And  he  shall  purchase  himselfe  a  name 
with  these  good  conditions,  in  doing  the  deedes  in  every  time 
and  place,  for  it  is  not  for  him  to  fainte  at  any  time  in  this  be- 
halfe  without  a  wondrous  reproach. 

And  even  as  in  women  honestie  once  stained  doth  never  re- 
turn e  againe  to  the  former  estate:  so  the  fame  of  a  gentleman 
that  carrieth  weapon,  if  it  once  take  a  soyle  in  anye  litle  point 
through  dastardlinesse  or  any  other  reproach,  doth  evermore 
continue  shamefull  in  the  world  and  full  of  ignorance. 

Therefore  the  more  excellent  our  Courtier  shall  be  in  this 
arte,  the  more  shall  he  be  worthie  praise:  albeit  I  judge  not 
necessarie  in  him  so  perfect  a  knowledge  of  things  and  other 
•qualities  that  is  requisite  in  a  Captaine.  But  because  this  is 
.overlarge  a  scope  of  matters,  we  wil  holde  our  selves  contented, 
as  wee  have  saide,  with  the  uprightnesse  of  a  well  meaning 
mind,  and  with  an  invincible  courage,  and  that  he  alwaies 
^hew  himself  such  a  one. 

For  many  times  men  of  courage  are  sooner  knowne  in  small 
matters  than  in  great.  Often  times  in  dangers  that  stand 
them  upon,  and  where  many  eyes  be,  ye  shall  see  some  that 
for  all  their  hart  is  dead  in  their  bodie,  yet  pricked  with  shame 
or  with  the  company,  goe  forwarde,  as  it  were,  blindfield  and 
doe  their  duetie.  And  God  knoweth  both  in  matters  that 
Jittle  touch  them,  and  also  where  they  suppose  that  without 
^missing  they  may  convey  them  selves  from  danger,  how  they 
are  willing  inough  to  sleepe  in  a  whole  skinne. 

But  such  as  think  themselves  neither  marked,  scene,  nor 
tnowne,  and  yet  declare  a  stoute  courage,  and  suffer  not  the 
least  thing  in  the  world  to  passe  that  may  berden  them,  they 
have  that  courage  of  spirite  which  we  seek  to  have  in  our 
Courtier.  Yet  will  wee  not  have  him  for  all  that  so  lustie  to 
.make  braverie  in  words,  and  to  bragge  that  he  hath  wedded 


BALDASSARE  CASTIGUONE.  99 

his  harnes  for  a  wife,  and  to  threaten  with  such  grimme  looks, 
as  we  have  seen  Berto  do  often  times. 

For  unto  such  may  wel  be  said,  that  a  worthie  gentle  woman 
in  a  noble  assemblie  spake  pleasantly  unto  one,  that  shall  bee 
nameless  for  this  time,  whom  she  to  shew  him  a  good  counte- 
nance, desired  to  daunce  with  her,  and  hee  refusing  it,  and  to 
heare  musicke,  and  many  other  entertainments  offered  him, 
alwaies  affirming  such  trifles  not  to  be  his  profession,  at  last 
the  gentle  woman  demanded  him,  what  is  then  your  profes- 
sion ?  he  answered  with  a  frowning  look,  to  fight. 

Then  saide  the  gentle  woman:  seeing  you  are  not  now  at 
the  warre  nor  in  place  to  fight,  I  would  think  it  best  for  you 
to  bee  well  besmered  and  set  up  in  an  armory  with  other  im- 
plements of  warre  till  time  were  you  should  be  occupied,  least 
you  ware  more  rustier  than  you  are.  Thus  with  much  laugh- 
ing of  the  standers  by,  she  left  him  with  a  mocke  in  his  foolish 
presumption. 

The  ende  therefore  of  a  perfect  Courtier  (whereof  hetherto 
nothing  hath  beene  spoken)  I  believe  is  to  purchase  him,  by 
the  meane  of  the  qualities  which  these  L,ordes  have  given  him, 
in  such  wise  the  good  will  and  favour  of  the  Prince  he  is  in 
service  withall,  that  he  may  breake  his  minde  to  him,  and 
alwaies  enforme  him  franckly  of  the  truth  of  every  matter 
meete  for  him  to  understand,  without  feare  or  perill  to  dis- 
please him.  And  when  hee  knoweth  his  minde  is  bent  to 
commit  any  thing  unseemely  for  him,  to  be  bold  to  stand  with 
him  in  it,  and  to  take  courage  after  an  honest  sorte  at  the 
favor  which  he  hath  gotten  him  through  his  good  qualities,  to 
diswade  him  from  every  ill  purpose,  and  to  set  him  in  the  way 
of  virtue.  And  so  shall  the  Courtier,  if  he  have  the  goodoesse 
in  him  that  these  L,ordes  have  given  him  accompanied  with 
readiness  of  wit,  pleasantness,  wisedom,  knowledge  in  letters, 
and  so  many  other  things,  understand  how  to  behave  himself 
readily  in  all  occurrents  to  drive  into  his  Prince's  heade  what 
honour  and  profit  shall  ensure  to  him  and  to  his  by  iustice, 
liberallitie,  valiantness  of  courage,  meekeness,  and  by  the 
other  vertues  that  belong  to  a  good  prince,  and  contrariwise 
what  slander  and  damage  commeth  of  the  vices  contrarie  to 
them. 


100  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

And  therefore  in  mine  opinion,  as  musicke,  sportes,  pastimes, 
and  other  pleasant  fashions,  are  (as  a  man  would  say)  the 
floure  of  courtlinesse,  even  so  is  the  training  and  helping  for- 
warde  of  the  Prince  to  goodnesse,  and  the  fearing  him  from 
evil,  the  finite  of  it. 

And  because  the  prayses  of  well  doing  consisteth  chiefly  in 
two  pointes,  whereof  the  one  is,  in  choosing  out  an  end  that 
our  purpose  is  directed  unto,  that  is  good  in  deede,  the  other, 
the  knowledge  to  finde  out  apt  and  meete  meanes  to  bring  it 
to  the  appointed  good  ende:  sure  it  is  that  the  minde  of  him 
which  thinketh  to  worke  so,  that  his  Prince  shall  not  bee  de- 
ceived, nor  lead  with  flatterers,  railers,  and  lyers,  but  shall 
know  both  the  good  and  the  bad,  and  beare  love  to  the  one, 
and  hatred  to  the  other,  is  directed  to  a  verie  good  end. 

Me  thinke  againe,  that  the  qualities  which  these  Lords  have 
given  the  Courtier,  may  bee  a  good  means  to  compasse  it;  and 
that,  because  among  many  vices  that  we  see  now  a  dayes  in 
many  of  our  Princes,  the  greatest  are  ignorance  and  selfe 
liking. 

And  the  roote  of  these  two  mischiefs  is  nothing  els  but  lying, 
which  vice  is  worthely  abhorred  of  God  and  man,  and  more 
hurtfull  to  Princes  than  any  other,  because  they  have  more 
scarsitie  than  of  any  thing  els,  of  that  which  they  neede  to 
have  more  plentie  of,  than  of  any  thing;  namely,  of  such  as 
should  tell  them  the  truth,  and  put  them  in  mind  of  goodnesse; 
for  enimies  be  not  driven  of  love  to  doe  these  offices,  but  they 
delight  rather  to  have  them  live  wickedly  and  never  to  amend : 
on  the  other  side,  they  dare  not  rebuke  them  openly  for  feare 
they  be  punished. 

Music. 

Then  saide  the  Lord  Gasper  Pallavicin.  There  are  many 
sortes  of  musicke,  as  well  in  the  brest  as  upon  instruments, 
therefore  would  I  gladly  learne  which  is  the  best,  and  at  what 
time  the  Courtier  ought  to  practise  it. 

Me  thinke  then  answered  Sir  Fredericke,  prick-song  is  a 
faire  musicke,  so  it  be  done  upon  the  booke  surely  and  after  a 
good  sorte.  But  to  sing  to  the  lute  is  much  better,  because  all 


BALDASSARE   CASTIGLIONE.  IOI 

the  sweetness  consisteth  in  one  alone,  and  a  man  is  much  more 
heedfull  and  understandeth  better  the  feat,  manner  and  the 
aire  of  veyne  of  it,  when  the  eares  are  not  busied  in  hearing 
any  more  than  one  voice:  and  beside  every  little  error  is  soone 
perceived,  which  happeneth  not  in  singing  with  company,  for 
one  beareth  out  the  other. 

But  singing  to  the  lute  with  the  dittie  (me  thinke)  is  more 
pleasant  than  the  rest,  for  it  addeth  to  the  wordes  such  a  grace 
and  strength,  that  it  is  a  great  wonder. 

Also  all  Instruments  with  Freats  are  full  of  harmony,  be- 
cause the  tunes  of  them  are  very  perfect,  and  with  ease  a  man 
may  doe  many  things  upon  them  that  fill  the  mind  with  sweet- 
nesse  of  musicke. 

And  the  musicke  with  a  sette  of  Violes  doth  no  lesse  delite 
a  man:  for  it  is  very  sweet  and  artificiall. 

A  mans  brest  giveth  a  great  ornament  and  grace  to  all  these 
instruments,  in  the  which  I  will  have  it  sufficient  that  our 
Courtier  have  an  understanding.  Yet,  the  more  cunninger  he 
is  upon  them,  the  better  it  is  for  him,  without  medling  much 
with  the  instruments  that  Minerva  and  Alcibiades  refused, 
because  it  seemeth  they  are  noysome. 

Now  as  touching  the  time  and  season  when  these  sortes  of 
musicke  are  to  bee  practised:  I  believe  at  all  times  when  a 
man  is  in  familiar  and  loving  company,  having  nothing  else 
adoe.  But  especially  they  are  meete  to  be  practised  in  the 
presence  of  women,  because  those  sights  sweeten  the  mindes 
of  the  hearers,  and  make  them  the  more  apt  to  bee  pierced 
with  the  pleasantnesse  of  musicke,  and  also  then  quicken  the 
spirits  of  the  very  doers. 

I  am  well  pleased  (as  I  have  saide)  they  flee  the  multitude, 
and  especially  the  unnoble. 

But  the  seasoning  of  the  whole  must  be  discretion,  because 
in  effect  it  were  a  matter  impossible  to  imagine  all  cases  that 
fall.  And  if  the  Courtier  bee  a  righteous  iudge  of  him  selfe, 
hee  shall  apply  him  selfe  well  inough  to  the  time,  and  shall 
discerne  when  the  hearers  minds  are  disposed  to  give  eare  and 
when  they  are  not.  He  shall  know  his  age,  for  (to  say  the 
truth)  it  were  no  meete  matter,  but  an  ill  sight  to  see  a  man  of 


IO2  SOURCE-BOOK   OP  THE  ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

any  estimation  being  old,  horeheaded  and  toothlesse,  full  of 
wrinkles,  with  a  lute  in  his  armes  playing  upon  it,  and  singing 
in  the  middest  of  a  company  of  women,  although  he  coulde 
doe  it  reasonably  well.  And  that  because  such  songes  con- 
taine  in  them  wordes  of  love,  and  in  olde  men  love  is  a  thing 
to  be  iested  at:  although  otherwhile  he  seemeth  among  other 
miracles  of  his  to  take  delite  in  spite  of  yeares  to  set  a  fire 
frosen  heartes. 

Then  answered  the  Lord  Julian:  doe  you  not  barre  poore 
olde  men  from  this  pleasure  (Sir  Fredericke)  for  in  my  time  I 
have  knowne  men  of  yeares  have  very  perfect  brestes  and 
most  nimble  fingers  for  instruments,  much  more  than  some 
yong  men. 

I  goe  not  about  (quoth  Sir  Fredericke)  to  barre  old  men 
from  this  pleasure,  but  I  wil  barre  you  and  these  Ladies  from 
laughing  at  that  follie. 

And  in  case  olde  men  will  sing  to  the  lute,  let  them  do  it 
secretly,  and  onely  to  rid  their  minds  of  those  troublesome 
cares  and  grievous  disquieting  that  our  life  is  full  of:  and  to 
taste  of  that  excellencie  which  I  believe  Pythagoras  and 
Socrates  savoured  in  musicke. 

And  set  case  they  exercise  it  not  at  all:  for  they  have  gotten 
a  certaine  habite  and  custome  of  it,  they  shall  savour  it  much 
better  in  hearing,  than  he  that  hath  no  knowledge  in  it:  For 
like  as  the  armes  of  a  Smith  that  is  weake  in  other  things,  be- 
cause they  are  more  exercised,  bee  stronger  than  an  other 
bodies  that  is  sturdie,  but  not  exercised  to  worke  with  his 
arms :  even  so  the  armes  that  be  exercised  in  musicke,  doe 
much  better  and  sooner  discerne  it,  and  with  more  pleasure 
judge  of  it,  than  other,  how  good  and  quicke  soever  they  be 
that  have  not  beene  practised  in  ye  variety  of  pleasant  musicke: 
because  those  musical  tones  pearce  not,  but  without  leaving 
any  taste  of  themselves  passe  by  ye  eares  not  accustomed  to 
here  them,  although  the  verie  wilde  beastes  feel  some  dilite  in 
melodic. 

This  is  therefore  the  pleasure  meete  for  olde  men  to  take  in 
musicke. 

The  selfe  same  I  say  of  daunsing,  for  in  deede  these  exer- 


MATTEO   BANDEU/X  103 

cises  ought  to  be  left  off  before  age  constraineth  us  to  leave 
them  whether  we  will  or  no. 

It  is  better  then,  answered  here  M.  Morello,  halfe  chafed,  to 
except  all  old  men,  and  to  say  that  onely  yong  men  are  to  be 
called  Courtiers. 

Then  laughed  Sir  Fredericke  and  saide :  Note  (maister 
Morello  )  whether  such  as  delite  in  these  matters,  if  they  bee 
not  young  men,  doe  not  strive  to  appear  young,  and  therefore 
dye  their  haire  and  make  their  bearde  grow  twice  a  weeke,  and 
this  proceedeth  upon  that  nature  saith  to  them  in  secrete,  that 
these  matters  are  not  comely  but  for  yong  men. 

All  these  Ladies  laughed,  becaused  they  knew  these  wordes 
touched  maister  Morello,  and  he  seemed  somewhat  out  of  pa- 
tience at  the  matter. 


MATTEO  BANDELLO. 

Born  at  Castelnuovo,  near  Tortona,  circa  1480.  Entered  the  church 
and  resided  at  Mantua,  as  tutor  in  the  family  of  Gonzaga.  The  battle 
of  Pavia  caused  him  to  leave  Lombardy,  and  he  made  his  way  to  France. 
Made  bishop  of  Agen  in  1550,  where  he  resided  for  some  years  before  his 
death  in  1562.  The  Novels  are  his  chief  literary  work. 

Bandello  to  the  Reverend  Doctor  in  Theology  Fro,  Cristoforo  Bandello^ 
Administrator  of  the  Order  of  the  Minor  Btethern  in  the  Province  of 
Genoa  * 

If  Pope  Leo  X  had,  when  as  first  Martin  Luther  began  to 
spread  abroad  the  pestilent  venom  of  his  heresies,  lent  a  fav- 
orable ear  to  the  Master  of  the  Sacred  Palace,  it  had  been  an 
easy  matter  to  quench  those  nascent  flames,  which  have  since 
waxed  to  such  a  height  that,  except  God  put  hand  thereto, 
they  are  more  like  to  increase  than  abate.  And  certes  me 
knoweth  not  what  spirit  was  this  of  Luther's,  which  so  many 
admire,  as  if  he  were  a  profound  dialectitian,  an  ingenious  phil- 
osopher and  a  profound  theologian,  he  having  in  all  his  various 
idle  devisings  adduced  no  single  plausible  argument  of  his  own 

*  The  Novels  of  Matteo  Bandello,  Bishop  of  Agen  :  now  first  done  into 
English  prose  and  verse  by  John  Payne.  London,  1890  :  printed  for  the 
Villon  Society. 


104          SOURCE-BOOK  OF  THE  ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

invention,  but  having  only  tricked  out  anew  the  false  opinions 
condemned  and  reproved  by  so  many  Councils-general  and  ul- 
timately by  that  of  Constance.  The  following  he  hath  cometh 
from  no  otherwhat  than  that  he  and  his  followers  open  the 
way  to  a  licentious  and  wanton  way  of  living.  In  truth,  he  is 
to  be  blamed  and  there  should  be  no  audience  given  to  his 
fables,  which  are  all  void  of  true  foundation.  Algates,  I  can- 
not deny  that  the  lewd  life  of  many  churchmen  is  a  cause  of 
scandal  to  unstable  minds,  but  it  behoveth  us  not  therefor  to 
fall  away  from  the  faith  of  our  forefathers.  Moreover,  those 
indiscreet  and  ignorant  friars,  (  whom  we  wot  of)  should,  when 
they  are  in  the  pulpit,  take  good  heed  lest  they  say  ought  to 
the  people  which  may  give  rise  to  scandal  and  not  (whereas 
they  ought  to  incite  their  hearers  to  devoutness)  provoke  them 
to  indecent  laughter,  the  which  nowadays  bringeth  the  things 
of  the  faith  into  little  esteem.  I  am  not  presently  concerned  to 
speak  of  the  follies  which  idiots  oftentimes  say  in  the  pulpit, 
but  will  speak  of  those  who  follow  indiscreetly  after  certain  la- 
l>les  which  bring  preachments  into  derision,  as  it  befel  Fra  Ber- 
nardino da  Peltro  in  Pavia,  according  to  that  which  I  heard  one 
day  told  of  Fra  Filippo  da  San  Columbano,  a  minor  Brother  of 
the  Franciscan  Order,  who,  being  in  company  of  certain  gen- 
tlemen at  their  place  of  the  Garden  in  Milan,  related  the  thing 
for  their  diversion,  as  it  happened  in  the  days  when  he  was  a 
student  of  the  law  at  Pavia,  and  for  that  it  is  a  thing  to  be 
noted,  I  have  chosen  to  send  and  give  it  to  you,  so  that,  we  be- 
ing of  one  blood,  you  may  eke  be  a  sharer  in  my  novels.  Fare 
you  well. 

THE    SIXTH  STORY. 

Fra  Bernardino  da  Peltro,  seeking  to  set  St.  Francis  over  all  the  othet 
saints,  is  confounded  by  a  student. 

You  must  know,  sirs,  that  when  I  was  a  student  and  abode 
at  Pavia  to  learn  the  civil  law,  Fra  Bernardino  da  Peltro,  a  man 
of  exceeding  consideration  in  our  order,  preached  a  whole  year 
long  in  the  Cathedral  Church  of  Pavia  to  as  great  a  concourse 
as  was  ever  seen  in  that  city.  He  had  preached  the  foregone 
year  at  Brescia,  where  he  had  let  publicly  burn  in  the  market- 


MATTEO   BANDEUX).  105 

place  the  false  tresses  which  the  women  wore  on  their  heads, 
to  enhance  their  native  beauty,  and  other  like  womanish  vanities. 
Moreover,  he  let  burn  all  such  copies  of  Martial's  Epigrams  as 
were  in  the  city,  and  did  many  other  things  worthy  of  memory. 
Now,  being  in  the  pulpit  at  Pavia  on  the  feast  day  of  our  Sera- 
phic Father  St.  Francis,  he  entered,  in  the  presence  of  a  great 
concourse  of  people,  upon  discourse  of  the  many  virtues  of  that 
saint,  and  having  descanted  thereon  at  large  and  recounted 
store  of  miracles  by  him  wroughten  in  his  life  and  after  his 
death,  he  bestowed  on  him  all  those  praises,  excellences  and 
dignities  which  behoved  unto  the  sanctity  of  so  glorious  a  father; 
and  having,  by  most  effectual  arguments,  authorities  and  exam- 
ples, proved  that  he  was  full  of  all  the  Christian  graces  and 
was  altogether  serafic  and  afire  with  charity,  he  kindled  into 
an  exceeding  fervor  and  said,  "What  seat  now  shall  we  assign 
thee  in  heaven,  holiest  father  mine  ?  Where  shall  we  set  thee, 
O  vessel  full  of  every  grace  ?  What  place  shall  we  find  apt  un- 
to such  sanctity?"  Then,  beginning  with  the  virgins,  he  as- 
cended to  the  confessors,  the  martyrs,  the  apostles,  to  Saint 
John  Baptist  and  other  prophets  and  patriarchs,  still  avouching 
that  St.  Francis  merited  a  more  honored  place  than  they;  after 
which,  raising  his  voice,  he  went  on  to  say,  "O  saint  most 
truly  glorious,  thou,  whom  thy  most  godly  gifts  and  sing- 
ular merits  and  the  conformity  of  thy  life  unto  Christ  exalt  and 
uplift  over  all  the  other  saints,  what  place  shall  we  find  sorting 
with  such  excellence  !  Tell  me,  my  brethern,  where  shall  we 
set  him  ?  Tell  me,  you,  gentlemen  students,  who  are  of  exalt- 
ed understanding,  where  shall  we  place  this  most  holy  saint  ?" 
Whereupon  Messer  Paolo  Taegio,  then  a  student  of  laws  and 
nowadays  a  very  famous  doctor  in  Milan,  who  was  seated  on  a 
stool  over  against  the  pulpit,  being  weary  of  the  friar's  useless 
and  indiscreet  babble  and  belike  misdoubting  him  he  meant 
to  put  St  Francis  above  or  at  least  on  a  level  with  the  Holy 
Trinity,  rose  to  his  feet  and  uplifting  his  settle  with  both  hands, 
said  so  loudly  that  he  was  heard  of  all  people,  "Father  mine, 
for  God's  sake,  give  yourself  no  more  pains  to  seek  a  seat  for 
St.  Francis  ;  here  is  my  settle  ;  put  him  thereon  and  so  he  may 
sit  down,  for  I  am  off."  And  so,  departing  he  gave  occasion 


106  SOURCE-BOOK  OF  THE  ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

unto  all  to  arise  also  and  depart  the  church  ;  therefore  it  be- 
hoved the  Feltrine  come  down  from'the  pulpit,  without  finding 
a  place  for  his  saint,  and  return,  all  crestfallen,  to  San  Giaco- 
mo.  And  indeed  that  which  a  man  saith  in  the  pulpit  should 
be  well  considered,  lest  indiscreet  preachments  bring  the  word 
of  God  into  derision. 

Bandello  to  the  right  illustrious  and  valiant  Signor  Livio  Liviani, 
Captain  of  Light  Horse. 

Albeit  we  are  here  in  Chierasco  in  daily  expectation  of  the 
Emperor's  army,  numerous  in  Italian,  German  and  Spanish 
footmen,  who  threaten  to  send  us  all  underground,  there  is  not 
withal  the  least  sign  of  fear  to  be  seen  in  these  our  soldiers ; 
nay,  meseemeth  they  await  the  siege  with  an  inexpressible  al- 
legresse,  as  they  were  to  have  double  or  treble  pay,  over  and 
above  their  due  wage.  I  hear  from  every  quarter  that  all  are 
prepared  to  give  the  enemy  such  an  account  of  their  valour  and 
to  make  such  approof  of  themselves  that  I  cannot  believe  but 
we  shall  abide  with  the  honour  of  the  emprise  ;  more  by 
token  that  my  patron,  Signor  Cesare  Fregoso,  although  pre- 
viously sick  of  a  violent  fever,  leaveth  nothing  undone  that 
may  be  to  our  profit  and  the  enemy's  hurt.  Moreover,  your 
coming  voluntarily  to  shut  yourself  up  here,  on  your  way  to 
the  court  of  the  Most  Christian  King,  giveth  me  good  aug- 
ury and  maketh  me  hope  from  good  to  better,  and  so  our  Lord 
God  grant  that  it  ensue  !  Now,  betaking  myself,  three  days 
agone,  to  the  bastion  over  against  the  San  Francisco  gate,  I 
found  there  many  good  fellows  in  discourse  of  the  various 
usances  of  men  of  various  nations  concerning  drinking,  and 
among  them  were  many  different  opinions  ;  but,  it  having  been 
debated  amain  of  the  matter,  L,udovico  da  Sanseverino,  who 
was  in  command  of  the  bastion,  a  discreet  youth  and  doughty 
of  his  person,  recounted  a  pleasant  anecdote  to  the  purpose  ; 
which  pleasing  me,  I  wrote  it  down  and  send  and  give  it  unto 
you,  seeing  how  much  appreciation  you  still  show  of  my  com- 
positions. Fare  you  well. 


MATTEO   BANDEUX).  loy 

THE  THIRTEENTH  STORY. 

A  quaint  and  merry  saying  of  a  German  anent  drinking  at  a  public 
festival  holden  at  Naples. 

We  do  but  cudgel  our  brains  in  vain,  comrades  mine,  an  we 
think  to  say  determinately  that  such  a  nation  drinketh  more 
than  such  another,  for  that  of  every  nation  I  have  seen  very 
great  drinkers  and  have  found  many  Germans  and  Frenchmen 
who  love  water  nacre  than  wine.  True,  it  seemeth  there  are 
some  nations  who  love  wine  more  than  others  ;  but  in  effect 
all  are  mighty  fain  to  drink.  I  warrant  me,  indeed,  I  have 
known  Italians  so  greedy  and  such  drinkers  that  they  would 
not  yield  to  whatsoever  famous  winebibber  amongst  the  Albani- 
ans, or  the  Germans.  And  what  would  you  say  if  I  should 
name  to  you  a  Lombard,  whom  I  have  seen  toast  it  with  Ger- 
mans at  a  German  Cardinal's  table  and  overcome  them  all,  and 
eke  carry  off  the  Bacchic  palm  amongst,  the  Albanians?  The 
French  drink  often  and  will  have  good  and  costly  wines,  but 
water  them  well  and  drink  little  at  a  time.  The  Albanians 
and  Germans  will  have  the  beaker  full,  and  would  fain  be 
winebibbing  from  morning  to  night.  Nay,  the  Spaniard,  who  at 
home  drinketh  water,  an  he  drink  at  another's  expense,  will 
hold  the  basin  to  any  one's  beard.  However,  in  general,  me- 
thinketh  the  Germans  of  every  sort  and  condition,  whether  no- 
bles or  commons,  gentle  or  simple,  love  better  than  any  other 
nation  to  play  at  drinking  and  publicly  fuddle  themselves  at 
noblemen's  tables,  so  that  needs  must  one  after  another  be 
carried  home  drunken  and  senseless ;  nor  is  this  accounted  a 
shame  among  them.  And  to  this  purpose,  remembering  me 
of  a  goodly  saying  of  a  German  I  will  tell  you  a  pleasant 
anecdote. 

After  Francesco  Sforza,  first  of  that  name,  Duke  of  Milan, 
to  maintain  peace  in  Italy,  made  the  famous  league  and  union 
of  all  the  Italian  powers,  in  the  time  of  Pope  Pius  the  Second, 
he  married  Ippolita  his  daughter  to  Alphonso  of  Arragon,  first- 
born son  of  King  Ferdinand  the  Old  of  Naples,  where  the  nup- 
tials were  solemnized  with  all  pomp  and  splendor,  as  behoved 
unto  two  such  princes.  All  the  princes  of  Italy  sent  ambassa- 
dors to  honor  the  nuptials,  and  Duke  Francesco  appointed  the 


108  SOURCE- BOOK   OF  THE  ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

bride  an  escort  of  the  most  worshipful  feudatories  and  gentle- 
men of  Lombardy.  Now,  among  many  other  festivities,  car- 
rousels and  sports  which  were  holden,  there  was  ordained  a 
solemn  and  most  magnificent  tournament,  which  befell  one  day 
of  exceeding  great  heat,  for  it  was  then  in  June.  The  j ousters 
appeared  all  arrayed  in  the  richest  of  accoutrements,  with 
quaint  and  well-ordered  devices,  according  to  each  one's  humor, 
and  mounted  on  fiery  and  spirited  horses.  All  ran  and  many 
lances  were  broken,  to  the  honor  of  the  jousters  and  the  no 
small  pleasure  of  the  spectators.  The  jousts  ended,  there  was 
naught  heard  but  praise  of  these  and  those  and  sayings  such 
as,  "Such  a  lord  hath  broken  so  many  lances,"  "Such  a  baron 
hath  made  so  many  strokes,"  "Such  a  knight  hath  done  so 
and  so,  and  such  another  so  and  so."  But  behold,  what  time 
silence  was  made  to  proclaim  who  had  the  honours  of  the 
tournament,  a  German  in  one  of  the  galleries,  without  waiting 
for  the  victory  to  be  declared,  fell  to  crying  out  and  saying,  as 
loudliest  he  might,  ' '  For  my  part,  accursed  be  that  sport  and 
and  accursed  be  all  the  festivals  and  carrousels  whereat  folk 
drink  not !"  You  need  not  ask  if  there  was  matter  for  laugh- 
ter, more  by  token  that  he  fell  to  crying,  '  'Wine  !  wine ! 
wine  !"  wherefore  I  know  not  if  there  was  ever  a  word  spoken 
among  such  a  multitude  whereat  it  was  laughed  so  much  as  it 
was  for  a  pretty  while  at  this  speech  of  the  German's. 

BENVENUTO  CELLINI. 

Born  at  Florence,  1500.  At  the  age  of  fifteen  apprenticed  to  a  gold- 
smith ;  aided  the  pontifical  forces  in  the  attack  on  Rome  by  the  Consta- 
ble de  Bourbon  in  1527;  produced  works  of  art  in  Rome,  Florence  and 
Paris.  Besides  medals,  and  vessels  of  gold  and  silver,  his  most  disting- 
uished work  is  the  Perseus,  placed  in  front  of  the  old  Ducal  Palace  in 
Florence.  Wrote  treatises  on  the  goldsmith's  art,  on  sculpture,  and  on 
-design;  but  the  most  important  of  his  writings  is  the  Autobiography. 
Died  at  Florence  in  1569. 

Certain  of  his  Exploits  at  the  Sack  of  Rome,  1527* 

XXXVII.  I  pursued  my  business  of  artilleryman,  and  every 
day  performed  some  extraordinay  feat,  whereby  the  credit  and 
the  favour  I  acquired  with  the  Pope  was  something  indescriba- 

*  From  Symonds'  translation  of  the  Life  of  Benvenuto  Cellini. 


BENVENUTO  CELLINI.  109- 

ble.  There  never  passed  a  day  but  what  I  killed  one  or  an- 
other of  our  enemies  in  the  besieging  army.  On  one  occasion 
the  Pope  was  walking  round  the  circular  keep,  when  he  ob- 
served a  Spanish  Colonel  in  the  Prati  ;  he  recognized  the  man 
by  certain  indications,  seeing  that  this  officer  had  formerly  been 
in  his  service ;  and  while  he  fixed  his  eyes  on  him,  he  kept 
talking  about  him.  I,  above  by  the  Angel,  knew  nothing  of 
all  this,  but  spied  a  fellow  down  there,  busying  himself  about 
the  trenches  with  a  javelin  in  his  hand  ;  he  was  dressed  entire- 
ly in  rose-color ;  and  so,  studying  the  worst  that  I  could  do 
against  him,  I  selected  a  gerfalcon  which  I  had  at  hand ;  it  is 
a  piece  of  ordnance  larger  and  longer  than  a  swivel,  and  about 
the  size  of  a  demi-culverin.  This  I  emptied,  and  loaded  it  again 
with  a  good  charge  of  fine  powder  mixed  with  the  coarser  sort ; 
then  I  aimed  it  exactly  at  the  man  in  red,  elevating  prodig- 
iously, because  a  piece  of  that  calibre  could  hardly  be  expected 
to  carry  true  at  such  a  distance.  I  fired,  and  hit  my  man  ex- 
actly in  the  middle.  He  had  trussed  his  sword  in  front,  for 
swagger,  after  a  way  those  Spaniards  have  ;  and  my  ball,  when 
it  struck  him,  broke  upon  the  blade,  and  one  could  see  the  fel- 
low cut  in  two  fair  halves.  The  Pope,  who  was  expecting 
nothing  of  this  kind,  derived  great  pleasure  and  amazement 
from  the  sight,  both  because  it  seemed  to  him  impossible  that 
one  should  aim  and  hit  the  mark  at  such  a  distance,  and  also 
because  the  man  was  cut  in  two,  and  he  could  not  comprehend 
how  this  should  happen.  He  sent  for  me,  and  asked  about  it. 
I  explained  all  the  devices  I  had  used  in  firing  ;  but  told  him 
that  why  the  man  was  cut  in  halves,  neither  he  nor  I  could 
know. 

Upon  my  bended  knees  I  then  besought  him  to  give  the  par- 
don of  his  blessing  for  that  homicide  ;  and  for  all  the  others  I 
had  committed  in  the  castle  in  the  service  of  the  Church. 
Thereat  the  Pope,  raising  his  hand,  and  making  a  large  open 
sign  of  the  cross  upon  my  face,  told  me  that  he  blessed  me,  and 
that  he  gave  me  pardon  for  all  murders  I  had  ever  perpetrated; 
or  should  ever  perpetrate,  in  the  service  of  the  Apostolic  Church. 
When  I  left  him,  I  went  aloft,  and  never  stayed  from  firing  to 
the  utmost  of  my  power  ;  and  few  were  the  shots  of  mine  that 


110          SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

missed  their  mark.  My  drawing,  and  my  fine  studies  in  my 
craft  and  my  charming  art  of  music,  all  were  swallowed  up  in 
the  din  of  that  artillery  ;  and  if  I  were  to  relate  in  detail  all  the 
splendid  things  I  did  in  that  infernal  work  of  cruelty,  I  should 
make  the  world  stand  by  and  wonder.  But,  not  to  be  too  pro- 
lix, I  will  pass  them  over.  Only  I  must  tell  a  few  of  the  most 
remarkable :  which  are,  as  it  were,  forced  in  upon  me. 

To  begin  then  :  pondering  day  and  night  what  I  could  ren- 
der for  my  own  part  in  defence  of  Holy  Church,  and  having 
noticed  that  the  enemy  changed  guard  and  marched  past 
through  the  great  gate  of  Santo  Spirito,  which  was  within  a 
reasonable  range,  I  thereupon  directed  my  attention  to  that 
spot ;  but,  having  to  shoot  sideways,  I  could  not  do  the  dam- 
age that  I  wished,  although  I  killed  a  fair  percentage  every  day. 
This  induced  our  adversaries,  when  they  saw  their  passage 
covered  by  my  guns,  to  load  the  roof  of  a  certain  house  one 
night  with  thirty  gabions,  which  obstructed  the  view  I  form- 
erly enjoyed.  Taking  better  thought  than  I  had  done  of  the 
whole  situation,  I  now  turned  all  my  five  pieces  directly  on  the 
gabions,  and  waited  till  the  evening  hour,  when  they  changed 
guard.  Our  enemies,  thinking  they  were  safe,  came  on  at 
greater  ease  and  in  a  closer  body  than  usual ;  whereupon  I  set 
fire  to  my  blow-pipes.  Not  merely  did  I  dash  to  pieces  the 
gabions  which  stood  in  my  way  ;  but  what  was  better,  by  that 
one  blast  I  slaughtered  more  than  thirty  men.  In  consequence 
of  this  manoeuvre,  which  I  repeated  twice,  the  soldiers  were 
thrown  into  such  disorder,  that  being,  moreover,  encumbered 
with  the  spoils  of  that  great  sack,  and  some  of  them  desirous  of 
enjoying  the  fruits  of  their  labour,  they  oftenimes  showed  a 
mind  to  mutiny  and  take  themselves  away  from  Rome.  How- 
ever, after  coming  to  terms  with  their  valiant  captain,  Gian  di 
Urbino,  they  were  ultimately  compelled,  at  their  excessive  in- 
convenience, to  take  another  road  when  they  changed  guard.  It 
cost  them  three  miles  of  march,  whereas  before  they  had  but  a 
half  mile.  Having  achieved  this  feat,  I  was  entreated  with 
prodigious  favours  by  all  the  men  of  quality  who  were  invested 
in  the  castle.  This  incident  was  so  important  that  I  thought 
it  well  to  relate  it,  before  finishing  the  history  of  things  outside 


BENVENUTO  CEUJNI.  Ill 

my  art,  the  which  is  the  real  object  of  my  writing  ;  forsooth,  if 
I  wanted  to  ornament  my  biography  with  such  matters,  I 
should  have  far  too  much  to  tell. 

Fixing  the  Value  of  the  Perseus. 

XCV.  Next  day  I  presented  myself,  and,  after  a  few  words 
of  conversation,  the  Duke  addressed  me  cheerfully:  "To- 
morrow, without  fail,  I  mean  to  dispatch  your  business ;  set 
your  mind  at  rest,  then."  I,  who  felt  sure  that  he  meant  what 
he  said,  waited  with  great  impatience  for  the  morrow.  When 
the  longed  for  day  arrived,  I  betook  me  to  the  palace  ;  and  as 
it  always  happens  that  evil  tidings  travel  faster  than  good  news, 
Messers  Giacopo  Guidi,  secretary  to  his  excellency,  called  me 
with  his  wry  mouth  and  haughty  voice  ;  drawing  himself  up 
as  stiff  as  a  poker,  he  began  to  speak  to  this  effect :  '  'The 
Duke  says  he  wants  you  to  tell  him  how  much  you  ask  for  your 
Perseus. ' '  I  remained  dumbfounded  and  astounded  ;  yet  I 
quickly  replied  that  it  was  not  my  custom  to  put  prices  on  my 
work,  and  that  this  was  not  what  his  Excellency  had  promised 
me  two  days  ago.  The  man  raised  his  voice,  and  ordered  me 
expressly  in  the  Duke's  name,  under  penalty  of  his  severe  dis- 
pleasure, to  say  how  much  I  wanted.  Now  I  had  hoped  not 
only  to  gain  some  handsome  reward,  trusting  to  the  mighty 
signs  of  kindness  shown  me  by  the  Duke,  but  I  had  still  more 
expected  to  secure  the  entire  good  graces  of  his  Excellency, 
seeing  I  never  asked  for  anything,  but  only  for  his  favour.  Ac- 
cordingly, this  wholly  unexpected  way  of  dealing  with  me  put 
me  in  a  fury,  and  I  was  especially  enraged  by  the  manner 
which  that  venomous  toad  assumed  in  discharging  his  commis- 
sion. I  exclaimed  that  if  the  Duke  gave  me  ten  thousand 
crowns  I  could  not  be  paid  enough,  and  that  if  I  had  ever 
thought  things  would  come  to  this  haggling,  I  should  not  have 
settled  in  his  service.  Thereupon  the  surly  fellow  began  to 
abuse  me,  and  I  gave  it  him  back  again. 

Upon  the  following  day,  when  I  paid  my  respects  to  the 
Duke,  he  beckoned  to  me.  I  approached,  and  he  exclaimed  in 
anger  :  "Cities  and  great  palaces  are  built  with  ten  thousands 
of  ducats. ' '  I  rejoined  :  '  'Your  Excellency  can  find  multitudes 


112  SOURCE- BOOK   OF  THE  ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

of  men  who  are  able  to  build  your  cities  and  palaces,  but  you 
will  not,  perhaps,  find  one  man  in  the  world  who  could  make 
a  second  Perseus."  Then  I  took  my  leave  without  saying  or 
doing  anything  farther.  A  few  days  afterwards  the  Duchess 
sent  for  me,  and  advised  me  to  put  my  difference  with  the 
Duke  into  her  hands,  since  she  thought  she  could  conduct  the 
business  to  my  satisfaction.  On  hearing  these  kindly  words,  I 
replied  that  I  had  never  asked  any  other  recompense  for  my 
labours  than  the  good  graces  of  the  Duke,  and  that  his  most 
illustrious  Excellency  had  assured  me  of  this  ;  it  was  not  need- 
ful that  I  should  place  in  their  Excellencies'  hands  what  I  had 
always  frankly  left  to  them  from  the  first  days  when  I  under- 
took their  service.  I  farther  added  that  if  his  most  illustrious 
Excellency  gave  me  but  a  crazia,  which  is  worth  five  farthings, 
for  my  work,  I  should  consider  myself  contented,  provided 
only  that  his  Excellency  did  not  deprive  me  of  his  favour.  At 
these  words  the  Duchess  smiled  a  little  and  said  :  "Benvenuto, 
you  would  do  well  to  act  as  I  advise  you."  Then  she  turned 
her  back  and  left  me.  I  thought  it  was  my  best  policy  to  speak 
with  the  humility  I  have  above  described  ;  yet  it  turned  out 
that  I  had  done  the  worst  for  myself,  because,  albeit  she  had 
harboured  some  angry  feelings  toward  me,  she  had  in  her  a  cer- 
tain way  of  dealing  which  was  generous. 

XCVL  About  that  time  I  was  very  intimate  with  Girolamo 
degli  Albizzi,  commissary  of  the  Duke's  militia.  One  day  this 
friend  said  to  me  :  "O  Benvenuto,  it  would  not  be  a  bad  thing 
to  put  your  little  difference  of  opinion  with  the  Duke  to  rights; 
and  I  assure  you  that  if  you  repose  confidence  in  me,  I  feel 
myself  the  man  to  settle  matters.  I  know  what  I  am  saying. 
The  Duke  is  really  getting  angry,  and  you  will  come  badly  out 
of  the  affair.  L<et  this  suffice  ;  I  am  not  at  liberty  to  say  all  I 
know."  Now,  subsequently  to  that  conversation  with  the 
Duchess,  I  had  been  told  by  some  one,  possibly  a  rogue,  that 
he  had  heard  how  the  Duke  said  upon  some  occasion  which 
offered  itself :  "For  less  than  two  farthings  I  will  throw  Perseus 
to  the  dogs,  and  so  our  differences  will  be  ended." 

This,  then,  made  me  anxious,  and  induced  me  to  intrust 
Girolamo  delgi  Albizzi  with  the  negotiations,  telling  him  any- 


BENVENUTO   CELLINI.  113 

thing  would  satisfy  me  provided  I  retained  the  good  graces  of 
the  Duke.  That  honest  fellow  was  excellent  in  all  his  dealings 
with  soldiers,  especially  with  the  militia,  who  are  for  the  most 
part  rustics ;  but  he  had  no  taste  for  statuary,  and  therefore 
could  not  understand  its  conditions.  Consequently,  when  he 
spoke  to  the  Duke,  he  began  thus :  "Prince,  Benvenuto  has 
placed  himself  in  my  hands,  and  has  begged  me  to  recommend 
him  to  your  Excellency. ' '  The  Duke  replied  :  "I  too  am  will- 
ing to  refer  myself  to  you,  and  shall  be  satisfied  with  your  de- 
cision." Thereupon  Girolamo  composed  a  letter,  with  much 
skill  and  greatly  to  my  honour,  fixing  the  sum  which  the  Duke 
would  have  to  pay  me  at  3,500  golden  crowns  ;  and  this  should 
not  be  taken  as  my  proper  recompense  for  such  a  masterpiece, 
but  only  as  a  kind  of  gratuity  ;  enough  to  say  that  I  was  satis- 
fied ;  with  many  other  phrases  of  like  tenor,  all  of  which  im- 
plied the  price  which  I  have  mentioned. 

The  Duke  signed  this  agreement  as  gladly  as  I  took  it  sadly. 
When  the  Duchess  heard,  she  said  :  "It  would  have  been  bet- 
ter for  that  poor  man  if  he  had  placed  himself  in  my  hands  ;  I 
could  have  got  him  five  thousand  crowns  in  gold."  One  day 
when  I  went  to  the  palace,  she  repeated  these  same  words  to- 
me in  the  presence  of  Messer  Alamanno  Salviati,  and  laughed 
at  me  a  little,  saying  that  I  deserved  my  bad  luck. 

The  Duke  gave  orders  that  I  should  be  paid  a  hundred  golden 
crowns  in  gold  per  month,  until  the  sum  was  discharged  ;  and 
thus  it  ran  for  some  months.  Afterwards,  Messer  Antonio  der 
Nobili,  who  had  to  transact  the  business,  began  to  give  me  fifty,, 
and  sometimes  later  on  he  gave  me  twenty-five,  and  sometimes- 
nothing.  Accordingly,  when  I  saw  that  the  settlement  was 
being  thus  deferred,  I  spoke  good-humoredly  to  Messer  An- 
tonio, and  begged  him  to  explain  why  he  did  not  complete  my 
payments.  He  answered  in  a  like  tone  of  politeness ;  yet  it 
struck  me  that  he  exposed  his  own  mind  too  much.  L,et  the 
reader  judge.  He  began  by  saying  that  the  sole  reason  why 
he  could  not  go  forward  regulary  with  these  payments,  was 
the  scarcity  of  money  at  the  palace;  but  he  promised,  when  cash 
came  in,  to  discharge  arrears.  Then  he  added,  "Oh  heavens  ! 
if  I  did  not  pay  you,  I  should  be  an  utter  rogue."  I  was 


114  SOURCE- BOOK   OF  THE   ITALIAN   RENAISSANCE. 

somewhat  surprised  to  hear  him  speak  in  that  way  ;  yet  I 
resolved  to  hope  that  he  would  pay  me  when  he  had  the  power 
to  do  so.  But  when  I  observed  that  things  went  quite  the  con- 
trary way,  and  saw  that  I  was  being  pillaged,  I  lost  temper 
with  the  man,  and  recalled  to  his  memory  hotly  and  in  anger 
what  he  had  declared  he  would  be  if  he  did  not  pay  me.  How- 
ever, he  died  ;  and  five  hundred  crowns  are  still  owing  me  at 
the  present  date,  which  is  nigh  upon  the  end  of  1566.  There 
was  also  a  balance  due  upon  my  salary,  which  I  thought  would 
be  forgotten,  since  three  years  had  elapsed  without  payment. 
But  it  so  happened  that  the  Duke  fell  ill  of  a  serious  malady. 
Finding  that  the  remedies  of  his  physicians  availed  nothing, 
it  is  probable  that  he  betook  himself  to  God,  and  therefore  de- 
creed the  discharge  of  all  debts  to  his  servants.  I  too  was  paid 
on  this  occasion,  yet  I  never  obtained  what  still  stood  out  upon 
my  Perseus. 

XCVIL  I  had  almost  determined  to  say  nothing  more  about 
that  unlucky  Perseus  ;  but  a  most  remarkable  incident,  which 
I  do  not  like  to  omit,  obliges  me  to  do  so  ;  wherefore  I  must 
now  turn  back  a  bit,  to  gather  up  the  thread  of  my  narration. 
I  thought  I  was  acting  for  the  best  when  I  told  the 
Duchess  that  I  could  not  compromise  affairs  which  were  no 
longer  in  my  hands,  seeing  I  had  informed  the  Duke  that  I 
should  gladly  accept  whatever  he  choose  to  give  me.  I  said 
this  in  the  hope  of  gaining  favour  ;  and  with  this  manifestation 
of  submissiveness  I  employed  every  likely  means  of  pacifying 
his  resentment ;  for  I  ought  to  add  that  a  few  days  before  he 
came  to  terms  with  Albizzi,  the  Duke  had  shown  he  was  ex- 
cessively displeased  with  me.  The  reason  was  as  follows  :  I 
complained  of  some  abominable  acts  of  injustice  done  to  me  by 
Mes^er  Alfonso  Quistelli,  Messer  Jacopo  Polverino  of  the  Ex- 
chequer, and  more  than  all  by  Ser  Giovanbattista  Brandini  of 
Volterra.  When,  therefore,  I  set  forth  my  cause  with  some 
vehemence,  the  Duke  flew  into  the  greatest  rage  conceivable. 
Being  thus  in  anger,  he  exclaimed  :  "This  is  just  the  same  as 
with  your  Perseus,  when  you  asked  those  ten  thousand  crowns. 
You  let  yourself  be  blinded  by  mere  cupidity.  Therefore  I 
shall  have  the  statue  valued,  and  shall  give  you  what  the  ex- 


BENVENUTO  CELLINI.  115 

perts  think  it  worth."  To  these  words  I  replied  with  too  much 
daring  and  a  touch  of  indignation,  which  is  always  out  of  place 
in  dealing  with  great  princes:  "How  is  it  possible  that  my 
work  should  be  valued  at  its  proper  worth,  when  there  is  not  a 
man  in  Florence  capable  of  performing  it  ?  "  That  increased  his 
irritation  ;  he  uttered  many  furious  phrases,  and  among  them 
said:  "There  is  in  Florence  at  this  day  a  man  well  able  to  make 
such  a  statue,  and  who  is  therefore  nighty  capable  of  judging 
it."  He  meant  Bandinello,  Cavaliere  of  S.  Jacopo.  Then  I 
rejoined  :  "My  lord,  your  most  illustrious  Excellency  gave 
me  the  means  of  producing  an  important  and  very  difficult 
master-piece  in  the  midst  of  this  the  noblest  school  of  the  world; 
and  my  work  has  been  received  with  warmer  praises  than  any 
other  heretofore  exposed  before  the  gaze  of  our  incomparable 
masters.  My  chief  pride  is  the  commendation  of  those  able 
men  who  both  understand  and  practise  the  art  of  design — as  in 
particular  Bronzino,  the  painter  ;  this  man  set  himself  to  work, 
and  composed  four  sonnets  couched  in  the  choicest  style,  and 
full  of  honor  to  myself.  Perhaps  it  was  his  example  which 
moved  the  whole  city  to  such  a  tumult  of  enthusiasm.  I  freely 
admit  that  if  sculpture  were  his  business  instead  of  painting, 
then  Bronzino  might  have  been  equal  to  a  task  like  mine. 
Michel  Agnolo  Buonarroti,  again,  whom  I  am  proud  to  call  my 
master ;  he,  I  admit,  could  have  achieved  the  same  success 
when  he  was  young,  but  not  with  less  fatigue  and  trouble  than 
I  endured.  But  now  that  he  is  far  advanced  in  years,  he  would 
most  certainly  be  found  unequal  to  the  strain.  Therefore  I 
think  I  am  justified  in  saying  that  no  man  known  upon  this 
earth  could  have  produced  my  Perseus.  For  the  rest,  my  work 
has  received  the  greatest  reward  I  could  have  wished  for  in  this 
world  ;  chiefly  and  especially  because  your  most  illustrious  Ex- 
cellency  not  only  expressed  yourself  satisfied,  but  praised  it  far 
more  highly  than  any  one  beside.  What  greater  and  more 
honorable  prize  could  be  desired  by  me  ?  I  affirm  most  em- 
phatically that  your  Excellency  could  not  pay  me  with  more 
glorious  coin,  nor  add  from  any  treasury  a  wealth  surpassing 
this.  Therefore  I  hold  myself  overpaid  already,  and  return 
thanks  to  your  most  illustrious  Excellency  with  all  my  heart." 


Il6  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   ITALIAN  RENAISSANCE. 

The  Duke  made  answer  :  "Probably  you  think  I  have  not  the 
money  to  pay  you.  For  my  part,  I  promise  you  that  I  shall 
pay  you  more  for  the  statue  than  it  is  worth."  Then  I  retort- 
ed :  "I  did  not  picture  to  my  fancy  any  better  recompense  from 
your  Excellency  :  yet  I  account  myself  amply  remunerated  by 
that  first  reward  which  the  school  of  Florence  gave  me.  With 
this  to  console  me,  I  shall  take  my  departure  on  the  instaut, 
without  returning  to  the  house  you  gave  me,  and  shall  never 
seek  to  set  my  foot  in  this  town  again."  We  were  just  at  S. 
Felicitd,  and  his  Excellency  was  proceeding  to  the  palace. 
When  he  heard  these  choleric  words,  he  turned  upon  me  in 
stern  anger  and  exclaimed  :  "You  shall  not  go  ;  take  heed  }'ou 
do  not  go  !"  Half  terrified,  I  then  followed  him  to  the  palace. 
On  arriving  there,  his  Excellency  sent  for  the  Archbishop  of 
Pisa,  named  De'Bartolini,  and  Messer  Pandolfo  della  Stuffa,  re- 
questing them  to  order  Baccio  Bandinello,  in  his  name  to  ex- 
amine well  my  Perseus  and  value  it,  since  he  wished  to  pay  its 
exact  price.  These  excellent  men  went  forthwith  and  per- 
formed their  embassy.  In  reply  Bandinello  said  that  he  had 
examined  the  statue  minutely,  and  knew  well  enough  what  it 
was  worth  ;  but  having  been  on  bad  terms  otherwise  with  me 
for  some  time  past,  he  did  not  care  to  be  entangled  anyhow  in  my 
affairs.  Then  they  began  to  put  a  gentle  pressure  on  him, 
saying  :  "The  Duke  ordered  us  to  tell  you,  under  pain  of  his 
displeasure,  that  you  are  to  value  the  statue,  and  you  may  have 
two  or  three  days  to  consider  your  estimate.  When  you  have 
done  so,  tell  us  at  what  price  it  ought  to  be  paid."  He  an- 
swered that  his  judgment  was  already  formed,  that  he  could 
not  disobey  the  Duke,  and  that  my  work  was  rich  and  beauti- 
tiful  and  excellent  in  execution  ;  therefore  he  thought  six- 
teen thousand  crowns  or  more  would  not  be  an  excessive 
price  for  it.  Those  good  and  courteous  gentlemen  reported 
this  to  the  Duke,  who  was  mightily  enraged  ;  they  also  told  the 
same  to  me.  I  replied  that  nothing  in  the  world  would  induce 
me  to  take  praise  from  Bandinello,  "seeing  that  this  bad  man 
speaks  ill  of  everybody ."  My  words  were  carried  to  the  Duke; 
and  that  was  the  reason  why  the  Duchess  wanted  me  to  place 
the  matter  in  her  hands. 


THE  RENAISSANCE  IN  GERMANY. 


INTRODUCTION  TO  THE  GERMAN  RENAISSANCE* 

The  humanistic  movement  in  Germany  repeats,  in  many  par- 
ticulars of  its  development,  the  features  of  the  earlier  and 
greater  Renaissance  in  Italy.  It  differs,  however,  from  its 
Italian  prototype  in  this  important  particular  at  least,  that  the 
various  phases  of  its  progress  are  compressed  into  a  period  of 
little  more  than  half  a  century,  whereas  the  Italian  movement 
covers  two  centuries  from  its  rise  to  its  decline.  Just  before  the 
middle  of  the  fifteenth  century,  Aeneas  Sylvius,  himself  an  ac- 
complished man  of  letters,  who  had,  moreover,  as  secretary  at 
the  imperial  court  of  Frederick  III.,  abundant  opportunity  of 
observing  the  intellectual  development  and  tendencies  of  the 
Germans,  as  the  result  of  his  experience  declares  that  the  Ger- 
mans were  still  in  their  medieval  period;  that  such  intellectual 
activity  as  they  possessed  was  of  a  character  exclusively  theo- 
logical; that  they  still  moved  within  the  narrow  circle  of  schol- 
asticism. "They  are  good  people,"  he  said,  "but  they  are 
not  interested  in  the  things  that  interest  me."  Of  the  nobleSj 
the  future  patrons  of  humanism,  he  remarked  further  :  "They 
prefer  horses  and  dogs  to  poets,  and  like  horses  and  dogs,  they 

*  So  far  as  I  am  aware,  there  has  been  no  special  treatment  in  English 
of  the  German  humanistic  movement,  which  for  the  sake  of  brevity  has 
been  termed — I  hope  without  too  much  violence — the  "German  Re- 
naissance." It  seemed  not  inappropriate,  therefore,  to  preface  the  selec- 
tions offered  here  with  a  few  remarks  upon  the  significance  and  character 
of  that  general  intellectual  quickening  in  German  lands,  whose  genial 
activity  was  merged  in  the  struggles  of  the  Reformation.  The  following 
account  will  seem  less  meagre  if  taken  in  connection  with  the  intro- 
ductory notices  placed  at  the  head  of  the  various  selections.  Upon  this 
subject  compare  Van  Dyke:  "The  Age  of  the  Renaissance,"  Scribners, 
1897,  an  excellent  account  in  so  far  as  the  limits  of  the  work  permit;  also 
"The  Renaissance,"  by  Philip  Schaff,  Putnams,  1891. 

(H7) 


Il8  SOURCE  BOOK   OF  THE   GERMAN    RENAISSANCE. 

shall  go  down  fameless  unto  death."  Yet  such  a  Renaissance 
as  Germany  possesses  lies  between  these  experiences  of  Aeneas 
Sylvius  and  the  end  of  the  first  quarter  of  the  following  century, 
when  Luther's  bold  and  cumulative  attack  upon  the  church  of 
Rome  turned  the  interests  of  young  Germany  from  the  sunny 
fields  of  humanism  into  a  new  arena  of  theological  struggle. 

Certain  conditions  existed,  however,  favorable  for  a  rapid 
development  of  humanistic  ideas  in  German}'.  When  that 
country  had  arrived  at  a  point  where  the  more  material  needs 
were  satisfied,  and  a  wider  intellectual  field  was  necessary  for 
continued  expansion,  the  materials  for  the  new  learning  were 
found,  already  elaborated,  beyond  the  Alps.  The  early  steps 
had  been  taken  there,  the  slow  and  tedious  preliminary  work 
had  been  accomplished,  the  enormous  task  of  bringing  to  light 
the  remains  of  classical  culture  ;  even  the  preparation  of  ele- 
mentarj'  treatises,  whose  object  it  was  to  prepare  the  mind  for 
the  utilization  of  the  recovered  treasures;  all  this  had  been 
done  before  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth  century,  and  it  only  re 
mained  for  the  enterprising  German  pioneer  to  cross  the  Alps, 
bring  home  the  results  of  this  tremendous  labor,  and  give  it  a 
form  adapted  for  the  German  mind  and  inclination. 

Moreover,  when  Germany  entered  upon  her  humanistic 
career,  a  potent  instrument  had  been  prepared  for  the  dissemi- 
nation of  the  new  ideas.  In  superseding  the  slow  process  of 
manual  reproduction,  which  consumed  so  much  of  the  time  and 
strength  of  the  Italian  humanists  from  Petrarch  on,  the  print- 
ing-press gave  a  mighty  impetus  to  the  diffusion  of  the  new 
learning.  It  permitted  the  more  advanced  ideas,  in  so  far  as 
they  were  consonant  with  the  prevailing  trend  of  thought,  to 
gain  a  rapid  victory,  accomplishing  thereby  in  a  brief  period 
what  in  a  time  of  less  perfect  communication  had  required  gen- 
erations. It  is  on  this  account,  perhaps,  more  than  any  other, 
that  we  find  Germany,  within  the  space  of  half  a  century,  pass- 
ing rapidly  through  the  various  phases  of  humanistic  develop- 
ment, which  in  Italy  required  two  centuries. 

These  phases  are  a  series  of  stages  in  the  emancipation  of 
thought,  and  its  subsequent  progress  from  a  condition  of  lim- 
ited theological  interest,  characteristic  of  the  Middle  Ages,  to 


INTRODUCTION  TO  THE   GERMAN  RENAISSANCE.  IIQ 

that  condition  which  comprehends  the  wide  range  of  human 
interests  which  we  call  modern.  Along  this  track  of  progress 
are  to  be  found  a  sequence  of  individuals,  whom  for  purposes 
of  illustration  and  study  it  is  convenient  to  arrange  in  groups, 
and  to  characterize  according  to  the  degree  of  their  advance- 
ment. 

We  have  at  first,  as  in  Italy,  a  group  of  early  humanists, 
who  may  be  called  the  theological  humanists,  by  way  of  indi- 
cating that  they  are  still  largely  under  the  influence  of  medi- 
eval culture.  Although  working  earnestly  for  the  introduction 
of  humanistic  studies  into  Germany,  these  men  are  not  given 
over  unreservedly  to  classical  ideals;  they  are  disposed  to  elimi- 
nate from  the  list  of  Greek  and  Latin  authors  those  whose 
works  are  in  any  respect  imbued  with  an  anti-Christian  spirit; 
their  interest  is  not  primarily  in  the  works  themselves,  but  in 
their  adaptation  for  Christian  purposes.  Humanists  of  this  de- 
scription were  conscious  of  a  divided  allegiance,  and  it  is  im- 
possible to  resist  the  conviction  that  their  arguments  in  favor 
of  the  new  learning  are  intended  to  serve  quite  as  much  for 
self  justification  as  for  the  persuasion  of  their  readers.  It  is 
quite  in  the  nature  of  things  that  with  these  men  youth  is  the 
period  of  rationalism,  and  that  as  they  advance  toward  the  in- 
evitable solution,  in  their  individual  cases,  of  the  great  prob- 
lem of  the  future,  their  conservatism  asserts  itself  and  they  re- 
coil from  the  enterprises  of  their  earlier  days.  Many  of  them, 
in  fact,  revert  to  a  condition  of  total  obscurantism,  and  pass  the 
evening  of  life  in  retirement  and  religious  meditation,  doing 
penance  for  the  literary  aberrations  of  their  youth. 

In  Germany  the  theological  group  seems  to  include  a  great 
part  of  the  well-known  men  of  letters.  There  are  several  rea- 
sons for  this.  It  is  not  strange  that  in  a  country  where  learn  • 
ing  had  been  almost  exclusively  an  affair  of  the  clergy,  the  first 
recruits  for  humanism  should  be  drawn  from  a  class  whose 
earlier  impressions  rendered  a  separation  from  conventional 
theological  ideas  a  matter  of  great  difficulty.  Then,  too,  the 
German  mind,  perhaps  because  less  composite  in  origin,  and 
less  subject  to  extraneous  influences  in  its  national  develop- 
ment, seems  to  have  shown  a  relatively  great  tenacity  in  respect 


120  SOURCE-BOOK   OP  THE   GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

to  a  small  number  of  ideas,  of  which  the  religious  idea  had  been 
for  generations  one  of  the  most  prominent.  Such  men  were 
not  likely  to  carry  the  new  learning  beyond  the  pale  of  Chris- 
tianity, and  their  predominant  number  and  influence  gave  to 
the  German  Renaissance  a  more  truly  religious  character  and 
a  deeper  sincerity  of  purpose  than  resulted  from  similar  intel- 
lectual impulses  in  Italy.  It  also  happened  that  the  leaders  of 
this  group,  men  like  Rudolf  Agricola  and  Jakob  Wimpheling, 
turned  their  attention  to  educational  matters  and  embodied 
their  principles  in  the  organization  of  the  German  school  sys- 
tem. In  the  same  manner  the  principals  of  the  more  important 
secondary  schools,  as  for  example,  Alexander  Hegius,  of  De- 
venter,  were  representatives  of  the  same  deeply  religious 
spirit,  which  was  not  without  determining  influence  in  their 
contact  with  the  rising  generation  of  literary  workers. 

Another  and  later  group  of  humanists  maybe  called,  for  want 
of  a  better  term,  the  scientific  group.  The  chief  characteristic 
of  its  members  is  that  their  interest  in  the  new  learning  is  for 
the  thing  itself,  and  not  for  the  use  to  which  it  may  be  put  in 
advancing  the  interests  of  religion.  They  are  not  necessarily 
irreligious  ;  in  fact  such  an  element  has  almost  no  representa- 
tation  in  German  humanism  ;  they  have  simply  advanced  to  a 
point,  where,  without  denying  that  religion  is  one  of  the  most 
important,  if  tot  the  most  important  department  of  thought, 
they  recognize  that  the  circle  of  human  interests  has  grown  to 
embrace  other  considerations  which,  if  not  antagonistic,  have 
yet  no  necessary  connection  with  religion.  Another  charac- 
teristic of  these  humanists  is  that  they  are  not  necessarily 
clergymen.  The  humanities  have  come  by  this  time  to  attract 
men  from  all  departments  of  life.  At  the  high  tide  of  the  Ger- 
man Renaissance,  at  the  close  of  the  fifteenth  century,  lec- 
turers upon  theology,  medicine  and  law  were  speaking  to  empty 
benches  ;  the  interests  of  the  student  body  had  turned  toward 
the  new  learning.  The  dethronement  of  theology,  from  its  u- 
preme  position  at  the  head  of  the  university  curriculum  made 
place  for  the  introduction  of  other  studies.  Greek  came  more 
and  more  to  be  the  mark  of  a  liberal  education,  and  the  knowl- 
edge of  a  third  tongue,  Hebrew,  was  an  indication  of  still 


INTRODUCTION  TO  THE  GERMAN  RENAISSANCE.  121 

greater  attainment.  The  field  of  speculation,  loosed  from  its 
medieval  entanglement,  drifted  away  from  the  sole  contempla- 
tion of  the  spiritual  results  of  life,  and  came  to  include  the  facts 
of  material  existence.  History  came  to  be  regarded  as  some- 
thing other  than  the  melancholy  confirmation  of  the  results  of 
Adam's  fall ;  the  world  and  its  contents  came  to  demand  atten- 
tion, a  tendency  stimulated  by  the  recent  extension  of  the 
earth's  known  area. 

This  second  group  embraces  a  wide  range  of  intellectual  ef- 
fort. To  it  belongs  Erasmus,  who,  although  conventionally  and 
properly  religious  in  his  observances,  nevertheless  affords  at 
every  turn  unquestionable  evidence  that  the  great  interests  of 
his  life  are  literary  and  not  theological.  To  it  belongs  as  well 
von  Hutten,  in  whom  modernism  has  taken  the  form  of  a  patri- 
otic desire  to  throw  aside  the  yoke  and  influence  of  Rome, 
which  had  prevented  the  formation  in  Germany  of  a  centralized 
and  homogeneous  nation,  capable  of  approaching  successfully 
the  solution  of  modern  problems.  This  aspiration  is  in  itself 
a  recognition  of  the  importance  of  human  association  for  ma- 
terial purposes,  and  a  denial  of  the  exclusive  importance  of  such 
association  for  the  purpose  of  spiritual  preparation  and  advance- 
ment. In  this  group  also  we  find  the  mathematicians,  the 
geographers  and  other  men  of  science,  whose  industry  responds 
to  the  expanding  needs  of  human  effort. 

Moreover,  in  the  same  association  we  find  the  purely  literary 
workers,  the  "poets,"  as  all  men  were  called  at  the  time  who 
were  capable  of  original  literary  production.  These  are  the 
men  who  seem  least  German,  and  most  cosmopolitan  ;  they 
more  nearly  reflect  the  contemporaneous  idea  of  humanism  in 
Italy,  the  striving  for  a  pure  and  graceful  Latin  diction.  The 
conditions  of  this  form  of  literary  work  imply  a  contempt  for 
the  vernacular  and  an  emphasis  upon  the  necessity  for  style, 
even  at  the  expense  of  content.  Such  skill,  although  highly 
prized  and  greatly  striven  for  by  men  everywhere  in  the  Renais- 
sance, has  but  the  faintest  meaning  for  posterity,  whose  inter- 
est is  in  the  spirit  of  the  Renaissance  rather  than  in  its  copy- 
books. 

With  this  preliminary  classification  of  German  humanists,  it 


122  SOURCE- BOOK  OF  THE  GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

will  be  found  profitable  to  approach  the  subject  from  another 
standpoint,  and  to  note  the  various  centres  of  German  life  in 
which  humanistic  effort  finds  its  origin  and  support.  In  Italy 
the  universities  were  not  centres  of  the  new  learning.  Its 
leaders  were  rather  to  be  found  in  the  courts  of  princes  or  in 
the  administrative  bureaux  of  republics.  This  is  largety  due 
to  the  fact  that  the  universities  of  Italy  had  been  for  so  long  the 
great  professional  school  of  Europe.  The  "bread-studies" 
were  too  firmly  entrenched  there  to  be  driven  into  a  subordi- 
nate position  by  mere  cultural  studies.  In  Germany,  on  the 
other  hand,  the  universities  were  relatively  more  numerous,  of 
later  growth,  and  their  interests  less  definitely  determined.  Lec- 
turers upon  poetry  and  classical  authors  found  little  difficulty 
in  filling  their  benches  at  the  expense  of  the  more  respectable 
departments.  Progress  in  this  direction,  however,  varied  ac- 
cording to  the  influence  that  presided  over  the  direction  of  each 
separate  seat  of  learning.1  At  Cologne,  for  example,  where 
Dominican  influences  were  paramount,  the  new  learning  was 
looked  upon  as  questionable;  Erfurt  on  the  other  hand,  owing 
to  the  mild  spirit  there  prevailing,  became  the  true  centre  of 
advance.  Between  these  intellectual  poles  lay  the  other  uni- 
versities, inclining  to  this  side  or  to  the  other,  according  as  the 
nature  and  traditional  bias  of  the  dominant  territorial  sovereign 
determined.  The  fact  that  the  study  of  the  humanities  afford- 
ed preparation  for  no  definite  career,  led  to  a  vast  increase  in 
the  number  of  students  whose  residence  at  the  university  was 
fixed  by  no  particular  curriculum,  and  in  this  manner  to  a  feel- 
ing of  contempt  for  those  degrees  and  titles  which,  in  the  case 
of  };he  older  studies,  had  been  the  necessary  qualifications  for 
professional  life.  Again,  by  increasing  the  coctent  of  the  uni- 
versity curriculum,  humanism  discouraged  the  empty  routine 
of  disputation  upon  points  of  infinitesimal  importance,  which  in 
medieval  times  made  up  so  considerable  a  part  of  university 
work. 

'The  universities  of  Germany  at  this  period  were:  Prague  (1348), 
Vienna  (1365),  Heidelberg  (1385),  Cologne  (1388),  Erfurt  (1392),  Leipzig 
(1409),  Rostock  (1409),  Griefswald  (1456),  Freiburg  (1460),  Basel  (1460), 
Ingolstadt  (1472),  Mainz  (1476),  Tubingen  (1476),  Wittenberg  (1502)  and 
Frankfort-on  the  Oder  (1506). 


INTRODUCTION  TO  THE   GERMAN  RENAISSANCE.  123 

It  was  not  in  the  universities  alone  that  the  new  learning 
made  its  influence  felt.  Its  progress  was  marked  in  the  great 
secondary  schools,  such  as  Deventer,  Miinster  and  Schlettstadt, 
where  thousands  of  young  men  secured  such  preparation  as  was 
necessary  to  fit  them  for  teaching  and  other  intellectual  em- 
ployments, as  well  as  for  the  advanced  work  of  the  universities. 
The  fact  that  it  was  the  chief  object  of  these  schools  to  afford  a 
working  knowledge  of  the  Latin  language  made  them  espec- 
ially susceptible  to  changes  which  had  for  their  object  a  substi- 
tution of  classical  models  for  the  monkish  Latin  so  generally  in 
use.  This  change  made  itself  manifest  in  the  employment  of 
new  text-books  in  the  place  of  the  clumsy  and  inadequate 
grammars  and  lexicons  of  the  Middle  Ages,  and  furthermore, 
in  the  rejection  of  Latin  writers  of  the  declining  Roman  Em- 
pire and  of  the  schools,  in  favor  of  the  more  elegant  authors  of 
classical  antiquity.  There  also  took  place,  in  the  more  enter- 
prising of  the  schools,  an  extension  of  the  course  of  study,  to 
include  at  least  the  elements  of  Greek  and  Hebrew. 

There  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  an  intense  interest  in 
education  reigned  throughout  Germany  at  the  close  of  the  fif- 
teenth century,  and  that  many  of  the  prizes  in  official  and  in 
public  life  were  to  be  won  through  the  instrumentality  of  the 
new  learning.  The  introduction  of  the  Roman  law  into  Ger- 
many, the  increase  of  international  communication,  both  diplo- 
matic and  commercial,  called  for  men  of  training  and  culture. 
The  crowds  of  scholars  that  thronged  the  highways  leading  to 
the  great  towns,  the  large  attendance  at  the  universities  and 
the  crowded  condition  of  the  lower  schools  give  evidence  of  a 
desire  for  intellectual  advancement  which,  when  the  obstacles 
in  the  path  of  the  ambitious  student  are  taken  into  the  account, 
has  never  been  surpassed  in  subsequent  times. 

Other  centres  of  humanism  were  the  courts  of  princes.  Not 
only  were  skilled  Latinists  and  students  of  the  laws  a  necessary 
adjunct  to  the  establishments  of  rulers;  their  ornamental  qual- 
ities were  equally  in  demand.  After  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth 
century  the  greater  German  princes  were  sufficiently  instructed 
in  the  essentials  of  the  new  learning  to  recognize  its  import- 
ance in  measuring  a  ruler's  appreciation  of  the  modern  spirit. 


124  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

Two  emperors  are  associated  with  the  Renaissance  in  Ger- 
many. Frederick  III.,  who  reigned  from  1440  until  1492,  was 
himself  no  humanist,  either  by  education  or  by  inclination, 
and  the  constantly  depleted  condition  of  his  treasury  prevented 
any  considerable  patronage  of  learning.  It  was  only  in  the 
reign  of  his  son  and  successor  Maximilian  I.,  who  by  his  mar- 
riage with  Mary  of  Burgundy  added  the  rich  provinces  of  the 
Netherlands  to  the  Hapsburg  possessions,  that  the  imperial 
court  became  a  potent  factor  in  the  Renaissance.  Maximilian 
was  himself  a  humanist  of  no  small  pretensions.  His  political 
duties,  which  were  of  the  most  complex  and  exacting  nature, 
gave  him,  it  is  true,  little  opportunity  for  actual  composition; 
but  in  addition  to  the  fact  that  he  made  his  court  the  centre  of 
intellectual  activity,  he  even  found  time  to  evolve  the  material 
for  two  narratives,  the  "  Teuerdank"  and  the  "  Weisskunig," 
which  his  secretaries,  under  his  direction,  cast  into  literary 
form.  A  more  important  contribution,  however,  to  the  ad- 
vancement of  learning,  was  the  stimulus  he  afforded  to  the 
study  of  German  history.  His  project  for  a  great  collection  of 
German  monumenta  remained  for  later  and  wealthier  genera- 
tions to  carry  out. 

Maximilian's  interest  in  the  new  learning  was  shown  also  in 
his  affection  for  the  University  of  Vienna,  and  his  personal  at- 
tention to  its  welfare.  The  proximity  of  Vienna  to  the  Italian 
lands  was  perhaps  a  reason  why  the  intellectual  development 
at  the  imperial  university  was  more  of  a  piece  with  Italian 
humanism  than  with  the  culture  that  prevailed  at  the  northern 
seats  of  learning.  At  Vienna  the  art  of  Latin  poetry  received 
especial  attention,  and  the  greatest  of  the  German  stylists,  Con- 
rad Celtes,  who  produced  many  volumes  of  verse  in  the  man- 
ner of  Ovid  and  other  classical  poets,  found  the  atmosphere  of 
Vienna  most  conducive  to  this  phase  of  humanism.  Here, 
under  the  auspices  of  Maximilian,  a  special  faculty  of  poetry 
was  organized,  and  the  laurel  crown  and  other  insignia  were 
conferred  upon  each  applicant  who  gave  satisfactory  evidence 
of  possessing  the  qualifications  of  a  professional  verse-maker. 

Of  another  character  was  the  court  of  the  Elector  of  Saxony 
at  Wittenberg.  The  Elector,  Frederick  the  Wise,  is  an  enig- 


INTRODUCTION  TO  THE   GERMAN   RENAISSANCE.  125 

raatical  character,  whose  characteristic  silence  passes,  as  is  so 
often  the  case,  for  evidence  of  latent  strength.  That  strength, 
however,  was  wanting  at  a  critical  moment  in  his  career,  when, 
during  Luther's  absence  at  the  Wartburg,  the  whole  ecclesias- 
tical and  social  edifice  seemed  likely  to  fall  about  his  ears.  The 
Elector  was  much  less  a  modern  man  than  Maximilian,  both  in 
training  and  in  inclination.  He  knew  little  Latin,  and  his 
newly-founded  university  at  Wittenberg  bade  fair  to  be  little 
more  than  a  feeble  reflection  of  the  great  humanistic  centre  at 
Erfurt,  until  the  stirring  events  of  1517,  so  fatal  to  the  purposes 
of  the  humanists,  drew  the  attention  of  the  world  upon  the  little 
Saxon  town  and  supplied  the  Elector  with  one  of  the  great 
r5!es  of  modern  history. 

A  more  truly  humanistic  centre  was  the  archiepiscopal  seat 
of  Mainz,  where  the  young  and  energetic  sovereign,  Albert  of 
Brandenburg,  archbishop,  cardinal  and  elector,  gathered  about 
him  a  coterie  of  scholars  for  the  glory  of  his  reign  and  the  em- 
bellishment of  his  court.  So  long  as  rivers  constituted  the 
main  avenues  of  intercourse  in  Europe,  the  Rhine  valley  ever 
exhibited  a  stage  of  material  and  intellectual  progress  in  ad- 
vance of  the  less  accessible  portions  of  Germany.  Mainz  itself, 
the  seat  of  the  new  art  of  printing,  the  last  station  on  the  way 
to  the  great  fair  at  Frankfort,  was  a  point  of  first  importance 
on  this  route  of  travel  and  exchange.  Its  university  was  in 
touch  with  Cologne  on  the  north  and  Heidelberg  on  the  south, 
and  as  temporal  ruler  of  a  wealthy  and  populous  district  the 
Elector  was  one  of  the  most  powerful  princes  of  Germany. 

Next  to  the  imperial  and  princely  courts  the  cities  were  the 
most  important  centres  of  the  new  learning.  Particularly  in 
South  Germany  the  fifteenth  century  witnessed  a  remarkable 
urban  development.  Augsburg,  Nuremberg,  Ratisbon  and  Ulm, 
distributing  points  for  the  swelling  stream  of  Eastern  wares 
that  poured  into  Central  Europe  by  way  of  Venice  and  the 
Alpine  passes,  became  great  centres  of  wealth,  and  brought 
forward  a  new  and  powerful  social  element,  the  burgher  class, 
men  of  the  new  time,  keenly  alive  lo  the  spirit  of  progress,  un- 
hampered with  precedent  and  eager  to  take  advantage  of  the 
new  opportunities  of  pressing  forward  to  importance  and  dis- 


126  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE  GERMAN  RENAISSANCE. 

tinction.  The  sons  of  these  shrewd  tradesmen,  reared  in  an 
environment  of  industry  and  thrift,  were  much  more  likely  to 
qualify  themselves  for  positions  in  private  and  in  official  life 
requiring  intellectual  skill  and  technical  knowledge,  than  the 
sons  of  a  rash  and  undisciplined  nobility,  accustomed  only  to 
the  pursuit  of  inclination  and  pleasure. 

These  men  of  the  upper  middle  class  aided  the  progress  of 
humanism  in  various  ways — by  their  patronage  of  artists  and 
literary  men,  for  example.  This  was  of  especial  value  to  liter- 
ature at  a  time  when  the  profits  of  publication  could  hardly  be 
expected  to  afford  a  livelihood.  All  over  Europe  we  find 
writers  dedicating  their  works  and  fugitive  pieces  to  men  of 
wealth  and  distinction,  from  whom  an  honorarium  might  be 
expected  in  token  of  appreciation.  To  stand  in  epistolary  re- 
lations with  so  great  a  humanist  as  Erasmus  was  an  honor 
which  many  a  wealthy  burgher  felt  well  worth  a  generous 
purse.  Even  if  he  did  not  recognize  that  such  intercourse 
would  snatch  him  from  eventual  oblivion,  yet  the  fact  that 
Erasmus'  letters  became  at  once  the  property  of  the  literary 
world  was  sufficient  to  secure  an  honorable  notice  before  his 
contemporaries.  Again,  these  humanistic  proclivities,  partic- 
ularly in  the  time  of  Maximilian,  were  often  sufficient  to  secure 
intimate  relations  with  the  imperial  crown.  Conrad  Peutinger 
and  Willibald  Pirckheimer,  distinguished  representatives  of  the 
burgher  class  in  Augsburg  and  Nuremberg,  not  only  materially 
increased  their  local  importance,  but  reflected  lustre  upon  their 
native  cities  by  means  of  their  intimate  relations  with  the  Em- 
peror Maximilian  and  the  assistance  rendered  him  in  his  effort 
to  collect  the  monuments  of  German  antiquity.  Peutinger  and 
Pirckheimer  were  products  of  the  best  Italian  and  German  cul- 
ture, and  were  themselves  productive  humanists.  Their  wealth 
enabled  them  not  only  to  entertain  and  aid  their  companions 
in  letters,  but  also,  by  their  patronage  of  artists  and  antiquaries, 
to  accumulate  large  private  collections,  in  which  prerogative  of 
wealth  they  were  pioneers  in  Germany.  Their  affluence  is  in 
direct  contrast  with  the  Grub-street  conditions  which  prevailed 
generally  in  literary  circles  at  the  time;  but  the  contrast  is  soft- 
ened and  humanized  by  the  fact  that  their  wealth  was  so  freely 


INTRODUCTION  TO   THE   GERMAN  RENAISSANCE.  127 

employed,  both  in  relieving  the  material  needs  of  their  literary 
contemporaries,  and  in  making  possible  the  publication  of  their 
works. 

In  another  manner,  however,  the  cities  contributed  even  more 
largely  to  the  advancement  of  learning.  Their  liberality  in  the 
foundation  of  bursaries  made  it  possible  for  a  multitude  of 
students  from  rural  parts  to  obtain  such  education  as  only 
towns  afforded.  In  the  eyes  of  the  fifteenth  century  citizen 
it  was  one  of  the  essential  attributes  of  a  large  and  prosperous 
town  that  it  should  be  the  educational  centre  of  its  commercial 
territory  ;  and  not  only  did  the  bursaries  furnish  lodging  and 
warmth  during  the  winter  season,  but  the  citizens  themselves 
supported  with  alms  a  great  body  of  poor  students  who  spent 
their  afternoons  in  singing  for  bread  through  the  streets.  The 
student  and  the  street  musician  were  one  at  the  beginning  of 
modern  times. 

Another  institution  that  contributed  to  the  advancement  and 
direction  of  literary  effort  was  the  society  of  literati  (sodalitas 
literaria).  There  were  two  of  these  in  Germany,  the  Danubian 
and  the  Rhenish  (sodalitates  Danubiana  et  Rhenana).  The 
former  had  its  permanent  home  a  Vienna,  where  it  enjoyed  the 
patronage  of  the  Emperor,  and  the  personal  interests  of  its  most 
important  member,  Conrad  Celtes,  threw  its  activity  almost 
exclusively  into  the  direction  of  verse  production.  The  Rhen- 
ish society  had  no  such  distinctive  seat,  but  included  in  its 
membership  the  patrician  humanists  of  Augsburg  and  Nurem- 
berg, the  learned  bishop  of  Worms,  Johann  vouDalberg,  (1445- 
1503),  the  Heidelberg  literary  group,  and  Johannes  Trithemius 
(1462-1516),  abbot  of  Sponheim,  famous  not  only  for  his  gen- 
eral literary  activity,  but  also  on  account  of  his  supposed  magi- 
cal powers  to  which  a  still  credulous  age  attributed  much  im- 
portance. 

It  is  by  comparing  these  German  societies  with  the  academies 
of  Italy  that  we  are  able  to  arrive  at  the  general  relation  of  the 
German  to  the  Italian  Renaissance.  The  German  movement 
is  of  a  homelier  and  less  aspiring  character.  While  the  Flor- 
entine academy  sought  nothing  less  than  a  restoration  of  Greek 
philosophy,  the  Danubian  society  was  content  with  paraphras- 


128  SOURCE- BOOK   OF  THE   GERMAN  RENAISSANCE. 

ing  Ovid  and  Virgil.  The  Roman  academy  undertook  to  dis- 
cern and  interpret  the  antiquities  of  that  centre  of  the  classical 
world,  while  the  Rhenish  society  attempted  nothing  more  am- 
bitious than  the  publication  of  the  works  of  the  nun  Hrots- 
vitha. 

But  if  German  humanists  failed  to  inoculate  their  fellow  citi- 
zens with  the  philosophic  spirit  of  Greece  and  Rome,  they  at 
least  discovered  many  practical  applications  of  their  learning, 
and  opened  the  way  toward  a  larger  view  of  human  life.  That 
the  spirit  of  theological  strife  descended  and  closed  this  way, 
and  filled  the  arena  with  internecine  struggle,  so  that  for  two 
centuries  Germany  was  shut  out  from  the  van  of  European 
progress,  was  a  result  which  the  ablest  of  German  humanists 
predicted  at  the  opening  of  the  Lutheran  controversy.  It  was 
not  the  way  Erasmus  would  have  chosen.  Whether  it  led, 
after  a  lapse  of  centuries,  to  as  good  or  to  better  results,  is  one 
of  the  problems  of  history  for  whose  solution  the  material  will 
ever  be  wanting. 

LIST  OF  BOOKS  ON  THE  GERMAN  RENAISSANCE. 
BIBLIOGRAPHIES  : 

Schaff,  Philip :  The  Renaissance.  Putnam,  1891.  $1.50.  This  little 
book  of  132  pages  in  now  somewhat  difficult  to  obtain.  It  takes  up  the 
subject  of  the  Renaissance,  both  in  Italy  and  in  Germany.  Chapter  I. 
is  devoted  to  the  "Literature  of  the  Renaissance"  (pp.  3-6).  Each  of 
the  29  chapters  following  is  prefaced  with  a  special  bibliography. 

Cambridge  Modern  History  (noted  below).  Extensive  bibliographies, 
topically  arranged,  are  to  be  found  in  Vol.  I.,  The  Renaissance,  pp. 
693-792. 

SETS : 

1.  The  "Oncken"  Series:  Allgemeine  Geschichte  in  Einzeldarstel- 
lungen.     Berlin,  1880,  ff.    The  volume  on  the  Renaissance  is  by  Geiger, 
Ludwig :  Renaissance  und  Humanismus  in   Italien  und  Deutschland. 
1882.     Part  II.  deals  with  Germany — u  chapters  :  i,  The  Forerunners — 
2,  Emperor  and  princes — 3,  The  German  Cities— 4,  The  Schools — 5,  The 
Universities — 6,  General  Dissemination  of  Humanism — 7,  Poetry  and  the 
Poets — 8,  A  Glance  at  the  Development  of  Science — 9,  Johann  Reuchlin 
— 10,  Desiderius  Erasmus — n,  Ulrich  von  Hutten.     Literary  Notices  for 
the  Second  Book,  pp.  573-580. 

2.  Lavisse  et  Rambaud :  Histoire  Ginirale.     12  vol».     Paris.    Colin, 


INTRODUCTION  TO  THE  GERMAN   RENAISSANCE.  129 

1893,  ff.  Price,  unbound,  12  francs  per  volume.  Vol.  III.  contaius  a 
chapter  (Chapter  XII.),  by  G.  Blondel,  entitled  "Germany,"  which  deals 
with  the  political  and  social  conditions  in  Germany  in  the  second  half 
of  the  fifteenth  century.  Volume  IV.  contains  a  chapter  (Chapter  X), 
by  E.  Denis,  entitled  "Germany  and  the  Reformation."  Section  I., 
"  Germany  before  Luther,"  describes  the  intellectual  conditions  of  the 
time.  Book  Notes  follow  each  chapter  in  this  work. 

3.  Ward,  A.  W.,  and  others,  editors  :  The  Cambridge  Modern  History ^ 
Macmillan,  1902,  ff.  Volume  I.,  issued  in  1902,  is  called  "  7 he  Renais- 
sance.1" Pp.  807.  £3.75.  There  are  19  contributions.  Chapters  of  es- 
pecial interest  in  connection  with  the  German  Renaissance  are  Chap.  9, 
Germany  and  the  Empire;  13,  The  Netherlands;  15,  Economic  Changes 
(Cunningham);  16,  The  Classical  Renaissance  (Jebb);  17,  The  Christian 
Renaissance. 

GENERAL  WORKS : 

Van  Dyke,  Paul:  The  Age  of  the  Renaissance;  one  of  the  "Ten 
Epochs  of  Church  History."  Scribner.  $2.00.  Pp.  397.  Contains  a 
very  good  treatment  of  the  Reuchlin  controversy  and  other  phases  of  the 
German  Renaissance. 

Voigt,  Georg :  Die  Wiederlebung  des  classichen  Allerthums.  2  vols. 
Berlin,  1893.  Pp.  591,  543.  20  marks,  unbound.  Book  VI.  is  entitled 
"The  Propaganda  of  Humanism  beyond  the  Alps." 

Creighton,  Man  dell :  A  History  of  the  Papacy  from  the  great  Schisnt- 
to  the  Sack  of  Rome.  6  vols.  Longmans.  Each  volume,  $2.00. 

Pastor,  Ludwig  :  The  History  of  the  Popes  from  the  Close  of  the  Middle 
Ages.  Herder.  St.  Louis,  1898.  6  vols.,  each,  $3.00. 

Henderson,  Ernest  F. :  A  Short  History  of  Germany.  2  vols.  Mac- 
millan, 1902.  14.00.  Vol.  I.,  Chap.  X.,  "German  Life  on  the  Eve  of 
the  Reformation."  An  exceedingly  interesting  narrative. 

Janssen,  Johannes  :  History  of  the  German  People  at  the  Close  of  the 
Middle  Ages.  Translation  from  the  German.  Herder.  St.  Louis,  1896., 
Four  volumes  have  been  translated,  and  are  sold  at  the  rate  of  two  vols.- 
for  $6.25.  Vol.  I.  (354.  pages)  contains:  Book  I,  Popular  Education, 
Schools,  Universities — II,  Art  and  Popular  Literature — III,  Political 
Economy  (Agriculture,  Industry,  Commerce  and  Capital)— IV,  Holy 
Roman  Empire  (political  status  of  Germany).  The  wotk  is  scholarly 
anl  gives  a  very  different  picture  of  Germany  at  the  close  of  the  15th- 
century  from  that  presented  by  the  Protestant  historians. 

Bax,  Belfort :  German  Society  at  the  Close  of  the  Middle  Ages.  Mac- 
millan, 1894.  $1.75.  Contains  valuable  material  on  German  commerce 
at  the  close  of  the  rsth  century  in  Appendix  "A." 

Rashdall,  H  :  The  Universities  of  Europe  in  the  Middle  Ages.  2  vols. 
Clarendon  Press.  $14.00.  Volume  I ,  Chapter  IX.  is  entitled  "  Univer- 
sities of  Germany,  Bohemia  and  the  Low  Countries." 


130          SOURCE- BOOK   OF  THE  GERMAN  RENAISSANCE. 

RUDOLF  AGRICOLA 

Rudolf  Agricola,  or  Rudolf  Husmann  as  he  was  called  before  the  adop- 
tion of  his  scholarly  name,  was  born  in  1443  near  Groningen  in  Friesland. 
His  parents  were  in  modest  circumstances.  Agricola  received  his  ele- 
mentary education  in  Groningeu ;  at  Erfurt  he  attained  to  his  baccalaureate 
degree  and  went  thence  to  Lowen  in  Brabant  for  mathematics  and  phil- 
osopy.  Agricola's  disposition  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  during  hisresi 
dence  in  Brabant  he  avoided,  so  far  as  possible,  the  rough  and  roystering 
life  of  his  countrymen,  and  sought  the  more  refined  and  elegant  society 
of  the  French.  At  the  age  of  sixteen  he  received  the  master's  degree  at 
Lowenj  and  contiuued  his  theological  studies  at  Cologne.  At  the  age  of 
23  he  went  to  Pavia,  and  there  took  up  the  study  of  law,  in  accordance 
with  the  wish  of  his  family  and  friends.  His  interest  in  the  law  was 
feeble,  however,  and  as  time  advanced  he  gave  himself  up  to  the  study  of 
classical  literature.  In  Pavia  he  became  acquainted  with  Johann  von 
Dal  berg,  who  afterwards  became  bishop  of  Worms,  and  remained  on  terms 
of  intimacy  with  this  influential  man  during  the  remainder  of  his  life.  In 
order  to  pursue  to  better  advantage  the  study  of  Greek,  Agricola  went  to 
Ferrara,  where  he  remained  six  or  seven  years  at  the  court  of  Hercules 
at  Este.  His  presence  here  was  the  more  appreciated  an  account  of  his 
musical  skill  and  his  contribution  to  the  services  of  the  ducal  chapel. 

Upon  Agricola's  return  from  Italy  he  spent  three  years  in  his  native 
country,  residing  mostly  in  Groningen.  In  1484,  at  the  urgent  request 
of  his  friend,  von  Dalberg,  who  in  1482  had  been  chosen  bishop  of 
Worms,  he  made  his  residence  at  Heidelberg.  Here  he  took  up  the  study 
of  Hebrew,  with  the  intention  of  revising  the  Latin  version  of  the  Old 
Testament.  In  1485  von  Dalberg  and  Agricola  made  the  journey  to  Rome 
together.  On  the  homeward  journey  he  fell  sick  and  reached  Heidelberg 
only  to  die  in  the  arms  of  his  friend  and  patron,  at  the  age  of  46. 

In  his  habits  and  talk  Agricola  more  nearly  resembled  the  Italians  than 
the  Germans  of  his  time.  His  interests  were  in  music  and  painting, 
rather  than  in  the  coarser  pleasures  of  his  countrymen.  One  of  the 
earliest  of  German  humanists,  his  inclinations  and  extensive  Italian  ex- 
perience made  him  the  most  polished  of  the  group. 

Agricola's  chief  work  was  De  inventione  dialectica,  begun  in  Ferrara 
and  finished  in  1479  *n  Germany.  He  left  also  many  letters,  several 
translations  and  lesser  works,  including  a  biography  of  Petrarch  (written 
at  Pavia  in  1477),  whose  personality  he  much  admired. 

FROM  A  r.ETTER  TO  JACOB  BARBIRIANTJS.* 

In  the   arrangement  of  your  studies  two  considerations,  it 

*Sammlung  der  bedeutendsten  p&dagogischen  Schriften  aus  alter  und 
neuer  Zeit.  istes  Band.  Paderborn,  1893. 


RUDOLPH   AGRICOI,A.  131 

seems  to  me,  come  prominently  forward.  In  the  first  place,  it 
is  necessary  to  determine  what  department  of  knowledge  shall 
be  chosen.  Then  you  must  consider  by  what  method  it  is  pos- 
sible to  achieve  the  greatest  success  in  the  department  already 
chosen.  I  wish  to  make  myself  clear  on  both  these  points. 
For  some  persons  the  compelling  force  of  circumstances,  having 
its  origin  either  in  external  conditions  or  in  natural  capacity, 
determines  the  choice  of  a  profession.  Others,  on  the  contrary, 
turn  with  a  freedom  of  selection  to  that  which  they  hold  to  be 
the  best.  If,  for  example,  one  has  limited  resources,  he  turns 
to  that  occupation  in  which  he  may  hope  to  secure  for  himself, 
in  the  briefest  possible  space  of  time,  the  means  for  satisfying 
the  needs  of  his  existence.  If,  furthermore,  one  is  by  nature 
less  energetic  and  possesses  a  weak  intelligence,  then  for  fear 
of  wasting  his  effort  he  may  not  select  that  department  which 
in  fact  most  appeals  to  him,  but  will  be  obliged  to  select  that 
in  which  he  may  achieve  the  greatest  success.  In  the  same 
way  would  he  err,  to  whom  abundant  means  and  fortunate 
spiritual  gifts  have  been  confided,  if  with  all  his  strength  he 
did  not  pursue  the  highest  aims,  or,  if  able  to  reach  the  high- 
est place,  he  should  content  himself  with  the  second  or  the 
third.  Therefore  one  chooses  the  civil,  another  the  canon  law, 
and  still  a  third  medicine.  Very  many  devote  themselves  to 
those  wordy  utterances  resounding  with  empty  verbal  contests, 
which  are  so  often  mistaken  for  knowledge.  They  pass  their 
days  in  labored  and  interminable  disputations,  or,  to  use  an  ex- 
pression much  to  the  point,  with  riddles,  which  in  the  course 
of  many  centuries  have  found  no  Oedipus  to  solve  them,  nor 
ever  will  find  him.  With  these  things  they  torture  the  ears  of 
the  unfortunate  youth.  Such  nourishmemt  they  provide  for 
their  pupils,  with  force,  so  to  speak.  In  this  manner  they  kill 
the  most  promising  talents,  and  destroy  the  fruit  while  yet  in 
the  blossom.  Nevertheless,  I  commend  all  these  intellectual 
exercises,  and  would  commend  them  still  more,  if  they  were 
undertaken  in  a  proper  and  orderly  manner.  For  I  am  not  so 
foolish  as  alone  to  condemn  what  so  many  praise.  Why  should 
I  too  not  approve  it,  when  I  see  that  many  thereby  have  attain- 
ed to  wealth,  position,  esteem,  fame  and  distinction  ?  Indeed 


132  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE  GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

I  know  and  willingly  acknowledge  that  many  of  the  sciences, 
as  Cicero  says,  are  more  easily  converted  into  gain  than  others, 
of  which  it  is  said  they  are  unfruitful  and  resultless,  since  they 
enrich  the  spirit  rather  than  the  pocket.  If  then  you  have  gain 
in  mind,  you  must  choose  one  of  the  much  celebrated  profes- 
sions, by  the  practice  of  which  you  may  become  rich.  At  the 
same  time,  you  must  always  remember  that  the  fame  which 
you  secure  in  this  manner,  you  always  have  in  common  with 
every  clever  man  of  business.  But  if  you  cherish  the  juster 
view,  that  that  which  is  noble  should  be  pursued  for  its  own 
sake,  and  if  you  are  persuaded  that  your  resources  are  suffi- 
cient for  your  modest  demands — for  when  our  demands  are  ex- 
cessive even  the  slender  means  of  others  seem  to  us  to  great, 
and  our  own,  on  the  contrary,  were  they  ever  so  great,  too  small 
— then  I  advise  you  to  turn  >our  attention  to  philosophy  ;  by 
which  I  mean  to  say,  give  yourself  the  trouble  to  acquire  a 
competent  knowledge  of  things  in  general  and  the  ability  to 
express  adequately  what  you  know.  This  knowledge,  like  the 
essence  of  the  things  that  form  its  subject,  is  twofold,  one 
branch  relating  to  our  acts  and  customs.  Upon  it  reposes  the 
whole  theory  of  a  proper  and  well  regulated  manner  of  living. 
This  sphere  of  philosophical  activity  furnishes  the  science  of 
ethics.  It  is  of  the  first  importance,  and  deserves  our  special 
attention.  It  is  to  be  sought  for,  not  only  among  the  philoso- 
phers, who  treat  it  as  a  branch  of  literature,  as  for  example, 
Aristotle,  Cicero,  Seneca  and  others,  who  have  written  in  Latin, 
or  who  at  least  have  been  translated  into  Latin,  so  that  it  is 
worth  while  to  read  them;  but  also  among  the  historians,  poets 
and  orators.  They  teach  morality,  not  systematically,  it  is 
true,  but  they  indicate  it— and  this  is  indeed  the  most  effect- 
ive— in  their  praise  of  the  good  and  their  blame  of  the  evil,  and 
by  their  use  of  examples  of  virtue  and  its  antithesis  by  way  of 
illustration.  By  reading  them,  you  arrive  at  the  contempla- 
tion of  the  Scriptures  ;  because  you  must  arrange  your  life  in 
accordance  with  their  injunctions  ;  to  the  Bible  you  must  trust, 
as  to  a  certain  guide  in  matters  of  the  soul's  salvation.  All 
that  which  is  furnished  from  other  sources  is  more  or  less  mix- 
ed with  error ;  for  they  did  not  succeed  in  constructing  an  ideal 


RUDOLPH   AGRICOLA.  133 

of  life  that  was  absolutely  correct  and  irreproachable  in  every 
respect.  Either  they  did  not  recognize  the  object  and  purpose 
of  life,  or  they  had  only  indistinct  perceptions,  and  looked,  so 
to  speak,  through  a  veil  of  cloud.  Therefore,  although  they 
talked  much  about  these  matters,  it  was  not  because  they  were 
thoroughly  permeated  with  their  doctrine.  It  is  otherwise 
with  Holy  Writ.  That  is  as  far  removed  from  all  error  as  God, 
who  has  given  it  to  us  ;  it  alone  leads  us  on  the  sure  and  cer- 
tain way.  It  removes  all  obscurity,  and  permits  us  not  to  be 
deceived,  to  lose  ourselves,  or  go  astray. 

There  are,  however,  other  things,  a  knowledge  of  which 
serves  rather  to  adorn  the  spirit,  and  the  exploration  of  which 
must  be  regarded  rather  as  a  noble  pleasure  than  as  a  necessary 
condition  of  existence.  Here  belong  the  investigations  into  the 
essence  of  things.  Multiform  and  manifold  is  this  domain,  and 
upon  its  various  sides  it  has  been  treated  by  talented  men, 
gifted  with  the  power  of  expression.  If  this  sort  of  activity  is 
not  absolutely  necessary  for  the  development  of  a  moral  man, 
at  least  it  contributes  not  a  little  thereto ;  for  when  a  true  inter- 
est in  scientific  investigation  has  once  seized  upon  a  man,  there 
is  no  more  room  in  his  soul  for  low  and  common-place  effort. 
That  man  learns  to  despise  and  belittle  things  which  the  com- 
mon herd  gazes  upon  with  admiration.  He  pities  those  who 
are  held  to  be  fortunate  on  account  of  the  possession  of  such 
things,  because  he  recognizes  how  vain  and  transitory  are  these 
possessions  in  their  nature,  and  because  he  recognizes  that  no 
greater  misfortune  could  fall  upon  the  universe  than  that  all 
its  parts,  even  the  most  subordinate,  should  be  transformed 
into  such  things  as  gold  and  jewels,  to  which  the  blindness  of 
humanity  has  attributed  so  high  a  value.  With  the  aid  of  this 
knowledge  we  recognize  also  the  frailty  and  transitory  nature 
of  our  bodies,  exposed  to  the  mutability  of  events.  Thereby 
we  see  that  we  must  give  our  whole  attention  to  the  soul,  that 
to  its  care  we  must  devote  our  time,  since  in  its  care  no  pains 
are  thrown  away,  no  success  is  perishable.  I  pass  over  much 
in  my  discussion,  for  everything  that  could  be  said  in  this  con- 
nection would  fill  a  book  and  not  merely  a  single  letter.  It  is 
sufficient,  moreover,  to  have  merely  indicated  what  is  already 


134  SOURCE- BOOK   OF  THE   GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

known  to  you,  that  this  branch  of  knowledge  is  worthy  the 
highest  efforts  of  an  able  man. 

I  am  not  willing,  however,  that  you  should  assimilate  merely 
the  rudiments  of  this  science  as  at  present — we  are  conscious  of 
it  daily — it  is  presented  in  the  schools;  for  that  you  have 
already  done  with  zeal  and  willingness,  in  a  manner  worthy  of 
recognition.  It  is  rather  my  meaning  that  you  must  come 
nearer  to  the  things  themselves,  and  investigate  the  situation 
and  the  natural  qualities  of  countries,  mountains  and  rivers, 
the  customs  of  peoples,  their  boundaries  and  their  conditions, 
the  territorial  possessions  which  they  have  inherited  or  ex- 
tended, the  virtues  of  trees  and  plants,  which  Theophrastus 
has  recounted,  and  the  history  of  living  creatures,  which  Aris- 
totle has  treated  from  the  literary  point  of  view.  Why  should 
I  further  mention  the  literary  treatment  of  agriculture  and  of 
medicine?  These  authors  have  written  in  many  fields,  one  on 
the  art  of  war,  another  on  architecture,  a  third  on  painting  and 
sculpture.  These  arts,  it  is  true,  do  not  belong  exactly  to  that 
part  of  knowledge  which  explores  the  essence  of  things,  but 
they  are  related  to  it,  nevertheless,  and  spring,  so  to  speak, 
from  the  same  source.  Therefore,  I  have  no  reason  to  be  ap- 
prehensive, if  I  seem  forced  to  present  them  in  the  same  con- 
nection. 

All  that,  however,  which,  as  I  have  said,  has  a  bearing  upon 
our  customs  and  upon  the  nature  of  things,  you  must  obtain 
from  those  authors  who  have  presented  these  things  in  the 
clearest  light.  Then  you  will  acquire  at  once  a  knowledge  of 
the  things  themselves,  and  that  which  I  regard  as  most  im- 
portant in  a  secondary  way — the  gift  of  suitable  presentation. 
You  are  aware,  moreover,  that  upon  this  point  the  greatest 
men  afford  much  guidance.  But  it  is  necessary  that  you  should 
lay  aside  the  teaching  which  has  been  given  us  as  boys  at 
school.  Gather  up  all  that  you  have  learned  in  this  field, 
together  with  the  prejudices  that  accompany  it,  condemn  it, 
and  make  up  your  mind  to  give  it  up,  unless  you  are  again  put 
in  possession  of  it  through  the  recommendation  of  better  vouch- 
ers, as  though  by  official  decree.  Therefore  it  will  be  verj'  use- 
ful for  you  to  translate  everything  that  you  read  in  the  works 


RUDOLPH    AGRICOLA.  135 

of  classical  authors  into  j-our  mother  tongue,  using  words  as 
apt  and  significant  as  possible;  for  by  this  exercise  you  will 
bring  it  about  that  when  you  are  obliged  to  speak  or  write,  the 
Latin  expressions  will  evolve  themselves  from  your  mind  in 
immediate  connection  with  their  originals  in  the  vernacular. 
If,  moreover,  you  wish  to  commit  something  to  writing,  it  is 
recommended  that  you  first  arrange  the  material  as  completely 
and  correctly  as  possible  in  the  vernacular,  and  then  proceed  to 
express  it  appropriately  and  forcibly  in  pure  Latin.  In  this 
manner  the  presentation  will  be  clear  and  exhaustive;  for  it  is 
easier  to  detect  an  error  in  the  vernacular.  In  the  same  way 
every  one  will  notice  most  readily,  in  the  language  most  famil- 
iar to  him,  whether  a  point  has  been  expressed  too  obscurely, 
too  briefly,  in  too  labored  a  manner,  or  in  a  manner  not  in  keep- 
ing with  the  subject.  In  order  to  avoid  these  mishaps,  seek  to 
express  everything  that  you  write  in  the  purest,  that  is,  the 
most  accurate  Latin  possible.  The  adornment  of  the  discourse 
is  a  matter  of  secondary  importance.  This  can  only  be  arrived 
at  when  the  presentation  is  sound  and  faultless.  It  is  with  dis- 
course as  with  the  human  body;  if  all  parts  are  not  in  suitable 
condition;  if,  for  example,  they  do  not  possess  the  right  form 
and  size,  it  is  in  vain  that  you  embellish  them  -Kith  objects  of 
adornment.  The  ornament  stands  in  sharp  contrast  to  the 
body  itself,  and  the  foreign  embellishment  makes  the  distortion 
all  the  more  noticeable  by  comparison.  But  enough  of  the 
studies  which  you  must  pursue  in  this  direction. 

It  remains  for  me  to  indicate  the  method  by  means  of  which, 
in  my  opinion,  you  may  reach  the  best  results.  Many,  no 
doubt,  would  differ  with  me,  but  my  view  of  the  matter  is  as 
follows:  Whoever,  in  the  acquisition  of  a  science  will  obtain  a 
result  proportionate  with  his  effort,  must  observe  three  things 
in  particular:  He  must  grasp  clearly  and  correctly  that  which 
he  learns;  he  must  retain  accurately  that  which  he  has  grasped; 
and  he  must  put  himself  in  a  position  to  produce  something  in- 
dependently, as  a  result  of  that  which  he  has  learned.  The 
first  requisite,  therefore,  is  careful  reading;  the  second,  a  trust- 
worthy memory;  the  third,  continuous  exercise.  In  reading, 
the  effort  must  be,  to  thoroughly  penetrate  and  comprehend  in 


136  SOURCE-BOOK  OP  THE   GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

its  full  meaning  that  which  is  read.  It  is  not  sufficient  to  un- 
derstand what  is  treated  of;  with  classical  writers  it  is  further- 
more necessary  to  give  your  attention  to  the  meaning  of  expres- 
sions, to  the  peculiarities  of  arrangement,  to  the  correctness 
and  fitness  of  the  diction,  to  the  balance  of  the  sentences,  and 
to  the  ability  of  the  writer  to  clarify  a  subject,  to  clothe  the 
weightiest  and  most  obscure  things  in  words  and  bring  them 
forth  into  the  light  of  publicity.  It  must  not  be  said,  however, 
that  when  by  chance  we  come  across  a  passage  in  itself  obscure, 
or  at  least  unintelligible  to  us,  we  shall  stop  and  go  no  further. 
Many  throw  their  book  at  once  aside,  give  up  their  studies  en- 
tirely, or  bewail  their  limited  intelligence.  On  the  contrary, 
we  persevere  in  our  efforts,  and  are  not  necessarily  vexed.  If 
you  find  something,  the  meaning  of  which  you  cannot  at  once 
determine,  it  is  best  to  pass  over  it  for  the  moment,  and  reserve 
it  for  another  opportunity,  until  you  find  a  man  or  a  book  that 
will  afford  an  explanation.  Oftentimes  repeated  reading  is 
sufficient  to  clear  the  matter  up;  for  one  clay  teaches  the  next, 
as  I  am  fond  of  saying.  If  Quintilian  reckoned  it  among  the 
virtues  of  a  grammarian  to  be  ignorant  of  many  things,  how 
much  more,  I  wiil  not  say  necessary,  but  indeed  pardonable  it 
is  in  our  case,  if  we  now  and  then  are  ignorant  of  something. 
I  wish  above  all  things,  however,  not  to  give  the  impression 
that  in  this  discussion  I  am  making  a  plea  for  superficiality. 
On  the  contrary!  I  believe  that  there  is  no  way  in  which  I  can 
more  effectually  put  a  spur  to  zeal  than  by  making  it  clear, 
how  by  reading  itself  one  opens  the  way  to  comprehension;  and 
that  all  difficulties  which  arise  in  reading  are  by  reading  itself 
set  aside. 

The  next  requisite  is  an  accurate  memory.  Memory  de- 
pends immediately  upon  natural  qualities  ;  but  even  here  art 
may  be  helpful.  This  art  has  been  presented  in  various  ways 
by  different  teachers.  Nevertheless  the  essentials  are  the  same. 
This  art  seems  to  me  especially  adapted  for  two  sorts  of  uses. 
It  often  happens  that  you  are  compelled  to  speak  or  bring  for- 
ward a  great  number  of  things  without  special  preparation. 
The  danger  is  that  you  will  fail  in  respect  of  consecutiveness 
or  in  respect  of  completeness.  If,  for  example,  you  have  to 


RUDOLPH   AGRICOLA.  137 

present  certain  claims  before  a  prince  or  before  a  senate,  or  you 
are  obliged  to  reply  to  the  arguments  of  an  opponent;  then  you 
will  most  appropriately  seek  help  in  this  art.  If  it  is  desirable 
to  exercise  the  memory,  however,  it  can  best  be  done  in  the  fol- 
lowing manner  :  That  this  method  for  the  strengthening  of  the 
memory  is  in  the  highest  degree  beneficial,  Quintilian  assures 
us,  and  experience  teaches  us  as  well,  if  we  but  make  the  trial; 
for  the  memory,  quite  as  much  as  any  other  gift,  is  capable  of 
being  strengthened  by  frequent  exercises,  or  of  being  weak- 
ened by  a  lack  of  interest  or  by  neglect.  If  it  is  wished  that 
certain  things  should  be  firmly  lodged  in  our  mind,  it  is  neces- 
sary first  of  all  to  grasp  them  as  intensively  as  possible,  then  to 
reproduce  them  as  frequently  as  possible,  and  thereby  establish 
the  highest  degree  of  certainty  conceivable.  Finally,  we  must 
take  up  this  exercise  when  our  spirit  is  otherwise  unoccupied 
and  free  from  the  burden  of  pressing  thoughts.  For,  let  us  do 
what  we  will,  it  still  remains  an  established  fact  that  we  cannot 
do  two  things  properly  at  the  same  time.  True  it  is,  as  Sallust 
says,  that  the  mind  is  strongest  when  a  strain  is  put  upon  it  ; 
but  it  cannot  possib'y  be  effective  when  it  is  directed  into 
several  channels  at  the  same  time.  The  third  and  last  point 
that  I  have  to  raise  treats  of  the  art  and  manner  in  which  we 
may  derive  an  individual  benefit  from  what  we  have  learned, 
and  bring  our  knowledge  to  light  ;  for  the  products  of  our  ef- 
forts ought  not  to  remain  idle  and  unfruitful  in  the  depths  of 
our  minds,  but  like  seed  corn,  which  has  been  entrusted  to  the 
earth,  they  should  bring  forth  abundant  increase.  This  sub- 
ject is  very  comprehensive  and  productive.  It  deserves  an  ex- 
tersive  treatment,  which  I  have  in  mind  for  some  further  oppor- 
tunity ;  for  upon  this  question  depends  the  principal  reward  for 
a  long-continued  effort  and  for  much  trouble  expended  in  pur- 
suit of  knowledge.  That  is  to  say,  if  we  can  leave  nothing  to 
posterity,  can  transmit  nothing  to  our  contemporaries  beyond 
that  which  we  ourselves  have  appropriated,  what  difference  is 
there  then  between  us  and  a  book  ?  Hardly  more  than  this,  that 
a  book  preserves  with  accuracy  for  all  future  time  that  which  it 
has  once  taken  to  itself,  while  we  must  frequently  repeat  and 
impress  that  which  we  have  appropriated,  in  order  that  we  may 


138  SOURCE- BOOK   OF  THE   GERMAN    RENAISSANCE. 

retain  it  permanently.  In  this  connection  two  requisites  make 
themselves  apparent.  Each  is  in  and  for  itself  something  great 
and  fine,  but  the  union  of  the  two  in  an  intellectual  career  un- 
questionably deserves  especial  recognition.  The  first  requisite 
is  this :  All  that  we  have  learned  we  must  have  in  constant 
readiness  for  immediate  use.  For  you  frequently  find  people 
who  have  acquired  much  and  who  remember  many  things,  but 
they  are  unable  to  recollect  just  the  things  of  which  they  have 
especial  need.  These  people  indeed  know  many  things,  but 
they  have  no  exact  knowledge  of  anything.  The  second  re- 
quisite is  the  ability  to  discover  and  produce  something  outside 
the  area  of  our  acquisition,  something  that  we  may  ascribe  to 
ourselves  and  put  forward  as  our  own  spiritual  property.  In 
this  direction  two  things  afford  us  great  aid.  In  the  first  place, 
we  must  establish  certain  rubrics,  for  example,  virtue  and  vice, 
life  and  death,  wisdom  and  ignorance,  benevolence  and  hate, 
etc.  They  are  suitable  for  all  occasions.  We  must  recall  them 
frequently,  and,  so  far  as  possible,  arrange  under  them  every- 
thing that  we  have  learned,  or  at  least  everything  that  we  are 
learning.  Then  by  each  repetition  of  the  rubrics,  everything 
that  we  have  arranged  under  them  will  be  recalled  ;  and  finally 
it  will  come  about  that  everything  we  have  learned  will  be 
always  present  before  our  eyes,  so  to  speak.  It  will  often  hap- 
pen, however,  that  an  example  or  a  sentence  may  be  brought 
under  various  rubrics.  Thus,  for  example,  you  may  place  the 
account  of  the  violation  of  L,ucretia  under  the  head  of  Chastity, 
because  it  teaches  us  how  highly  this  should  be  valued,  when 
Lucretia  believed  she  must  repurchase  it  at  the  price  of  her  life. 
It  goes  equally  well  under  the  head  of  Beauty,  for  it  shows  us 
how  great  sorrow  this  may  cause,  and  how  greatly  it  endan- 
gers chastity.  It  may  be  included  also  under  the  rubric  Death; 
for  death  is  no  evil,  since  Lucretia  preferred  it  to  a  life  of 
shame.  The  account  comes  also  in  the  chapter  of  I^ust,  for  it 
shows  how  this  moral  weakness  has  caused  misfortune  and  war. 
It  also  justifies  the  aphorism  that  great  evil  often  produces 
great  good,  for  the  whole  circumstance  brought  to  the  Roman 
people  their  free  constitution.  In  a  similar  manner  the  saying, 


RUDOLPH  AGRICOLA.  139 

est  virtus  placitis  abstinisse  bonis*  may  be  classified  in  various 
ways.  It  may  be  placed  under  the  head  of  Virtue;  for  it  is 
reckoned  a  virtue  to  abstain  from  the  benefits  that  fall  to  us. 
The  rubric  Benefits  may  also  come  in  requisition,  since  net  all 
benefits  are  worthy  of  effort.  The  idea  of  Continence  may  also 
be  considered. 

In  the  second  place,  in  everything  that  we  learn  we  must 
carefully  consider,  compare  and  thoroughly  elucidate  the  indi- 
vidual expressions.  Let  us  take,  for  example,  a  sentence  from 
Virgil:  Optima  quaeque  dies  miseris  mortalibus  aeviprimafugit.\ 
First  of  all,  the  poet  says  optima;  how  must  we  value  benefits, 
when  those  which  we  consider  best  of  all  not  only  vanish,  but 
hasten  away  and  torture  us  with  fear  in  the  face  of  a  hopeless 
future,  which  seems  the  more  depressing  when  we  contrast  it 
with  conditions  that  have  gone  before  ?  Then  follow  the  words 
dies  aevt,  the  day  of  life;  how  slight  must  that  be  reckoned,  if 
it  is  so  fleeting,  and  the  best  it  contains  is  destroyed  at  its  be- 
ginning, in  its  bloom,  so  to  speak!  What  joy  can  there  be  in 
life,  when  those  who  rejoice  in  it  are  called,  not  only  mortals, 
but  also  miserable  ?  Why  should  they  not  be  so  called  ?  Are 
not  their  goods  and  their  very  lives  as  fleeting  as  the  day  itself! 
They  are  indeed  made  subject  to  the  law  of  death.  Finally 
come  the  words  prima  fugit.  We  have  not  come  to  know  the 
day  sufficiently  well  through  use  of  it.  Therefore,  all  that  fol- 
lows, no  matter  how  good  in  itself,  seems  cruel  in  remembrance 
of  that  which  is  lost.  The  day  vanishes,  is  not  released  or  sent 
away.  How  deceptive  and  how  uncertain  is  fortune!  How 
little  is  it  in  our  power !  How  little  does  it  depend  upon  our 
approbation  ! 

If,  then,  you  will  pursue  such  a  subject  through  all  the 
points  of  dialectic — that  is  to  say,  of  course,  so  far  as  it  re- 
sponds to  your  spiritual  disposition — you  will  find  yourself  in 
possession  of  abundant  material  for  presentation,  and  also  for 
your  inventive  faculties  to  work  upon.  The  method,  however, 
I  cannot  perfectly  present  in  the  narrow  compass  of  a  letter.  I 

*  It  is  a  virtue  to  renounce  the  things  that  please  us. 

fThe  happiest  day  of  life  most  quickly  escapes  unhappy  mortals. 


140          SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE  GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

have  treated  this  question  more  at  length  in  the  three  books 
De  invenlione  dialectica. 

Whoever  carries  out  these  instructions  properly  and  carefully, 
especially  when  the  theoretical  development  of  dialectic  is  added 
thereto,  will  obtain  in  a  high  degree  the  ability,  which  will  be 
always  at  his  command,  of  discoursing  over  almost  any  theme 
that  may  be  presented.  It  must  be  assumed,  of  course,  that 
the  theme  concerns  that  department  of  knowledge  with  which 
he  is  acquainted.  It  is  in  this  manner,  it  seems  to  me,  that  the 
old  masters,  whom  the  Greeks  called  Sophists,  that  is,  wise 
men,  have  developed  their  powers,  and  attained  to  so  great 
readiness  and  ability  in  discourse,  that  they,  as  is  seen  in  the 
case  of  Plato  and  of  Aristotle,  caused  any  theme  whatsoever  to 
be  advanced,  and  then  discoursed  upon  it  as  extensively  as  was 
desired. 

Thus  Gorgias  of  Leontini,  the  originator  of  so  bold  an  under- 
taking, thus  Prodicus  of  Ceos,  thus  Protagoras  of  Abdera  and 
Hippias  of  EHs  have  first  educated  themselves  and  then  taught 
others.  Moreover,  that  which  I  have  treated  of  in  the  second 
instance  will  afford  great  capacity  for  judgment  in  the  appro- 
priation of  knowledge,  and  lead  to  new  demonstrations,  to  new 
conclusions,  or  at  least  to  a  new  arrangement  of  those  already 
on  hand.  When  to  this  a  suitable  style  is  added,  eloquence  is 
attained  and  the  way  is  opened  to  the  attainment  of  oratorical 
distinction.  But  enough  of  this !  Demetrius  of  Phalerus,  in 
his  "*/>*  ipfaiv^oe*  says  that  a  too  extensive  letter  is  really  no 
letter,  but  a  book  with  a  formula  of  salutation  at  its  beginning. 
Whatever  may  be  thought  of  this  disturbs  me  not;  for  I  have 
set  myself  the  task  of  furthering  in  every  possible  way  your 
studies,  and  in  the  event  of  my  failure,  to  show  at  least  that  I 
have  made  the  effort.  The  will  may  indeed  be  of  little  account, 
if  measured  by  the  result;  but  in  the  domain  of  friendship, 
where  the  will  stands  for  the  deed,  it  has  so  great  a  value  that 
nothing  greater  can  be  asked  or  given. 

And  now  to  add  a  word  concerning  my  personal  affairs ;  let 
me  tell  you  that  on  the  second  of  May  I  came  to  Heidelberg. 

*  Exposition. 


RUDOLPH   AGRICOLA.  141 

My  lord,  the  bishop,  received  me  kindly,  and  has  shown  me 
nothing  but  amiability  and  benevolence.  Let  me  tell  you  of 
my  folly,  or,  to  speak  more  accurately,  of  my  stupidity.  I  have 
resolved  to  learn  Hebrew,  as  though  I  had  not  spent  enough 
time  and  pains  on  the  little  Greek  that  I  have  acquired.  I 
found  a  teacher,  who  a  few  years  before  accepted  our  faith. 
The  Jews  themselves  gave  him  credit  for  an  extensive  acquaint- 
ance with  their  learning,  and  were  accustomed  to  oppose  him  to 
our  theologians,  when  they  were  challenged  to  disputations  on 
the  subject  of  religion.  Out  of  kindness  to  me  the  bishop  un- 
dertook to  care  for  him  at  the  court.  I  shall  do  the  best  I  can, 
and  hope  to  accomplish  something.  Perhaps  I  shall  arrive  at 
this  result,  because  I  am  confident  of  doing  so.  Joseph  Rink 
has  informed  me  of  your  misfortune.  It  came  to  you  from  a 
source,  as  I  well  know,  whence  it  was  most  difficult  to  endure. 
I  am  not  certain  whether  I  most  lament  your  misfortune  or  such 
perfidiousntss.  At  any  rate  I  have  sympathized  deeply  with 
you  in  your  sorrow,  and  should  have  given  my  sympathy  ex- 
pression in  elegy — this  form  of  verse  being  specially  adopted 
for  such  complaint— had  I  been  so  quiet  and  collected  that  I 
might  have  brought  myself  to  poetical  composition.  I  beg  of 
you,  send  me  something  in  the  way  of  vocal  music  of  your  own 
composition;  but  something  finished,  that  will  earn  you  praise. 
We  have  singers  here  to  whom  I  have  often  spoken  of  you. 
Their  leader  composes  for  nine  and  twelve  voices.  Of  his  com- 
positions for  three  or  four  voices  I  have  heard  nothing  that  es- 
pecially pleased  me.  But  my  impression  is  in  no  sense  a 
proper  judgment;  very  likely  his  compositions  are  too  good  for 
my  limited  comprehension.  Farewell,  and  be  assured  of  my 
friendship  ;  give  my  regards  to  the  distinguished  and  learned 
magister,  Ambrosius  Dinter,  our  Nicholas  Haga,  the  elegantly 
cultured  magister,  Jacob  Crabbe,  your  neighbor,  and  especially 
to  Joseph  Rink,  an  amiable  young  man,  who  is  very  devoted 
to  you. 

The  verses  which  I  sent  you  I  have  carefully  read  through  a 
second  time.  I  found  three  or  four  errors  in  the  poem  to 
Mother  Anna  ;  the  printer  had  transposed  the  letters.  There- 
fore I  send  you  this  manuscript,  in  order  that  you  may  correct 


142  SOURCE-BOOK  OF  THE  GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

your  copy  by  it.  See  to  it,  I  beg  of  you,  that  this,  together 
with  the  letter,  is  delivered  to  the  regular  canon  of  St.  Martin's, 
Adam  Jordan  in  L,6wen.  Again  farewell !  Heidelberg,  June 
7,  1484.  Send  me  exact  information  concerning  your  affairs 
through  this  messenger. 

JACOB  WIMPHELING. 

Jacob  Wimpheling  (1450-1528)  was  born  at  Schlettstadt,  in  the  Upper 
Rhine  country.  His  education  was  acquired  in  the  schools  of  his  native 
town  and  at  the  universities  of  Freiburg,  Erfurt  and  Heidelberg.  Al- 
though for  a  considerable  time  connected  with  the  university  of  Heidel- 
berg in  the  capacity  of  teacher,  the  productive  period  of  Wimpheling's 
life  was  spent  at  Strasburg,  where  his  more  important  works  were  written. 
These  works  were  mostly  pedagogical.  The  Isidoneus,  a  guide  for  the 
German  youth  ;  the  Adolescentia,  of  a  similar  character;  and  the  Agath- 
archia,  or  book  for  the  direction  of  princes,  were  all  of  them  attempts 
to  raise  the  standard  of  education  in  Germany.  The  Germania,  written 
in  1501,  during  Wimpheling's  residence  at  Strasburg,  was  an  appeal  to 
that  municipality  to  establish  an  advanced  system  of  public  schools.  In- 
cidentally, however,  he  appealed  to  the  sentiment  of  German  patriotism, 
defending  the  thesis  that  Alsace  had  ever  been  a  German  land  ;  a  conten- 
tion which  was  opposed  by  another  famous  German  humanist,  Thomas 
Murner  (1475-1537).  Out  of  this  difference  of  opinion  arose  one  of  the 
most  celebrated  literary  controversies  of  the  time. 

Wimpheling's  interest  in  educational  matters  won  for  him  the  distin- 
guished title  of  the  "Schoolmaster  of  Germany."  His  writings  obtained 
a  wide  circulation  and  did  much  to  determine  the  character  of  German 
education  for  two  centuries.  Apart  from  this  special  work,  Wimpheling 
was  a  typical  humanist  of  the  earlier  type,  selecting  his  material  with 
reference  to  its  value  for  purposes  of  Christian  culture,  and  possessing  all 
the  homely  and  substantial  virtues  of  his  race.  He  valued  the  new  learn- 
ing chiefly  for  its  adaptability  to  the  purposes  of  practical  life,  and  the 
methods  he  advocated  looked  to  the  production  of  able  and  conscientious 
men  rather  than  accomplished  scholars. 

EXTRACTS  FROM  THB  Isidoneus* 
Chapter  25  ;     The  Study  of  Greek. 

In  the  matter  of  Greek  I  am  not  competent  to  render  judg- 
ment or  give  an  estimate,  since  in  the  best  years  of  my  youth 

*  Sammlung  der  bedentendsten  p'ddagogischen  Schriften.  Baud  13. 
Paderborn,  1892. 


JACOB  WIMPHEUNG.  143 

I  had  no  teacher  in  this  branch.  If  I  wished  to  follow  the  ex- 
ample of  Marcus  Cato,  and  learn  it  in  my  mature  years,  there 
would  be  no  lack  of  excellent  teachers  in  Germany.  Thus 
Rudolph  Agricola  has  learned  and  taught  Greek.  Johannes 
Camerarius  Dalberg,  Bishop  of  Worms,  devotes  himself  with 
ardor  to  the  study  of  Greek — he  who  is  the  ornament  of  Ger- 
many, the  glory  of  his  generation,  the  especial  pride  of  Duke 
Philip  of  Bavaria,  the  crown  of  bishops— he  whom,  on  account 
of  his  astonishing  erudition,  I  regard  as  born  for  something 
even  more  distinguished.  With  no  slight  ardor  does  Johannes 
Trithemius,  Sponheim's  pious  abbot,  devote  himself  to  the  study 
of  Greek.  Among  those  who  at  the  present  time  are  compe 
tent  to  teach  Greek  is  also  Johannes  Capnion,  or  as  he  is  com- 
monly called,  Reuchlin  of  Pforzheim,  and  the  poet  laureate, 
Conrad  Celtes.  It  is,  moreover,  well  known  that  Augustine  in 
his  second  book  of  Christian  Doctrine  advances  the  opinion 
that  for  those  who  speak  L,atin  a  knowledge  of  Greek  is  neces- 
sary for  the  understanding  of  Holy  Writ.  It  is  also  known 
that  teachers  out  of  their  ignorance  of  this  tongue  have  com- 
municated much  of  error  to  their  pupils.  For  example,  they 
were  of  the  belief  that  the  name  of  Christ,  which  was  written 
by  our  ancestors,  who  for  the  most  part  knew  Greek,  with  three 
Greek  letters,  XPC,  had  been  incorrectly  indicated  with  three 
Latin  letters,  although  it  is  beyond  doubt  that  the  first  of  these 
three  letters  indicated  to  the  Greeks  not  "x"  but  "ch;"  that 
the  second  stood  not  for  "p"  but  for  "r,"  while  by  the  third 
not  "c,"  but  "s"  was  meant. 

Chapter  26  :     The  Aim  -of  Grammatical  Instruction, 

Contemplate,  O  teachers,  the  aim  of  grammatical  instruc 
tion !  Bear  in  mind  that  this  instruction  is  to  enable  the  pupil 
to  speak  Latin  correctly  and  agreeably  on  all  occasions,  to  un- 
derstand it  perfectly  and  to  be  able  to  apply  it  to  branches  of 
knowledge  that  promise  greater  rewards.  This  is  the  object, 
this  the  aim,  this  the  sum  and  substance  of  your  instruction. 
But  when  it  is  possible  for  any  one  to  reach  this  goal  with  small 
pains  and  slight  exertion,  is  he  not  foolish  to  wander  here  and 
there  through  by-ways  and  all  sorts  of  turns  and  twistings  at 


144  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE  GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

the  expense  of  greater  effort  ?  But  many  remain  obstinate  in 
their  errors  and  close  their  ears  even  to  the  plain  truth.  Al- 
though a  straight  path  is  offered  to  them  for  the  study  of  gram- 
mar, yet  they  pursue  a  crooked  way,  which  brings  them  from 
the  direct  route;  they  abandon  the  level  road,  in  order  to  forge 
ahead  over  a  way  full  of  inequalities;  they  give  up  the  short 
road,  in  order  to  deceive  their  uninstructed  youth  with  mean- 
ingless and  windy  discourses,  together  with  great  loss  of  time 
and  interruption  of  mental  development;  to  weaken  and  un- 
nerve them.  They  remain  themselves,  together  with  their 
pupils,  blind  and  lame,  for  their  ignorance  in  respect  to  the  ele- 
ments of  grammatical  instruction  permits  them  to  grope  about 
in  darkness.  He  will  never  attain  to  the  object  of  grammar, 
who  during  his  entire  youth  has  busied  himself  with  his  Alex- 
ander,* with  the  meaning  of  words,  with  figures  and  examples, 
all  of  which  is  superfluous,  and  at  the  end  can  neither  thor- 
oughly grasp  nor  understand  the  smallest  preface  of  Jerome,  nor 
any  homily  of  the  fathers,  nor  anything  whatsoever  that  is 
agreeably  written,  with  all  the  grammar  which  he  is  supposed 
to  have  learned. 

Therefore  it  is  for  you,  who  are  placed  at  the  head  of  the  pub- 
lic schools,  to  conduct  your  pupils  by  the  nearest  possible  way 
to  an  understanding  and  a  knowledge  of  the  Latin  tongue. 
Leave  untouched  the  old  established  explanations,  which  are 
full  of  absurdities,  and  above  all  such  as  are  calculated  to  cause 
one  to  forget  rather  than  to  learn,  in  which  there  is  nothing  either 
graceful  or  dignified,  and  which,  moreover,  are  useless  either 
for  the  acquisition  or  the  comprehension  of  Latin. 

The  Latin  language  I  regard  as  the  noblest  of  tongues;  it 
can  be  learned  and  understood  by  the  people  of  every  nation; 
it  makes  the  noble-born  still  nobler;  one  who  knows  it  not  is 
thereby  rendered  unworthy  of  the  Roman  imperial  crown;  in  it 
have  countless  things  been  written,  which  can  scarcely  be  trans- 
lated into  the  German  or  any  popular  speech;  he  who  despises  it 

*The  Doctrinale  puerorum  of  Alexander  de  Villa  Dei,  written  in  1209 
(1199),  a  famous  Latin  grammar,  which  came  into  extensive  use  in  the 
Middle  Ages.  With  singular  perversity  the  text  was  tortured  into  hexa- 
meter verse. 


JACOB  WIMPHELING.  145 

shows  himself  unworthy  of  it;  he  who  refuses  to  become  a 
Latinist,  remains  forever  a  wild  beast  and  a  two-legged  don- 
key. Our  princes  and  their  trusted  courtiers  and  flatterers — 
not  to  call  them  "worshippers,"  with  Augustine — as  despisers 
of  the  Latin  language  and  literature,  might  be  called  barbar- 
ians by  foreigners;  and  such  in  truth  they  are.  But  you,  ad- 
mirable youths,  love  this  tongue;  no  other  language  is  nobler, 
more  graceful,  and  more  expressive;  no  other  language  surpasses 
it  in  abundance  and  splendor  of  high  and  enlightened  thought. 

EXTRACTS  FROM  THE  Adolescentia. 
Chapter  I.     The  Choice  of  Books. 

If  I  did  not  fear  to  be  accused  by  others  of  presumption,  I 
should  advise  teachers  to  observe,  in  the  introduction  of  the 
grammar,  the  orderly  succession  and  the  principles  which  I 
have  presented  in  my  "Isidoneus."  I  permit  myself  to  hope 
that  immediately  after  the  instruction  in  the  alphabet  they  will 
put  into  your  hands  the  Donat,*  to  which  I  have  nothing  to 
add,  and  from  which  I  have  little  to  take  away.  Then  will 
they  make  you  acquainted  with  the  varieties  and  declensions 
of  nouns  and  verbs,  with  the  easier  forms  of  sentences  and  ter- 
minations according  to  Sulpicius,f  or  some  other  good  exercise 
book  for  boys.  Then  they  will  place  before  you  Basil  the 
Great  \  and  the  letter  of  ^Eneas  Silvius  to  King  Ladislaus.§ 
After  these  have  been  completed,  this  book  of  mine  may,  I  think, 
without  detriment,  be  placed  in  your  hands,  by  means  of  which 
you  may  become  acquainted  with  Cicero,  Sallust,  Seneca, 
Tranquillus  and  Valerius  Maximus.  In  this  manner  you  will 
be  able  more  easily  to  attain  to  an  understanding  of  the  re- 

*Or  Donatus ;  the  ars  grammatica  of  Aelius  Donatus  (IV  century  A. 
D.).  This  book,  in  two  forms,  the  ars  minor  and  the  ars  major,  came 
into  general  use  as  an  elementary  Latin  grammar  after  the  middle  of  the 
twelfth  century. 

f  Johannes  Sulpicius  Verulanus  (Giovanni  Sulpicio  of  Veroli),  a 
humanist  of  the  XV  century  ;  taught  at  Rome,  and  composed  yvorks 
upon  grammar. 

£St.  Basil  (329-379),  Archbishop  of  Caesarea  in  Cappadocia. 
\  Vide  Source-Book  of  the  Italian  Renaissance,  pp.  59  66. 


146  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

maining  historical  works;  among  others  to  an  understanding 
of  Christian  history,  of  the  noble  deeds  of  the  Germans,  espec- 
ially in  the  account  of  Otto  of  Freisingen,  in  whom  your  noble 
father,  who  possesses  a  carefully  revised  and  perfect  edition 
of  this  work,  takes  great  delight. 

When  you  will  read  something  of  a  more  sprightly  character, 
to  cheer  you  up  or  for  amusement,  turn  to  I^ucian.  Whenever 
any  sad  mischance  has  shaken  you,  take  your  flight  to  Fran- 
cesco Petrarca,  who  for  all  the  turns  of  fortune,  be  they  good 
or  ill,  has  ever  a  perfect  remedy  and  in  a  tasteful  form,  as  well 
against  arrogance  and  presumption  as  against  discouragement 
and  sadness.  If,  however,  you  love  brevity,  take  up  the  equally 
interesting  and  instructive  book  of  Baptista  Mantuanus,  De 
patientia.  If  you  take  pleasure  in  learning  of  the  tasks  and 
duties  of  an  upright  prince  or  count,  or  if  for  the  relief  and  un- 
burdening of  your  conscience  you  will  give  to  God  an  account 
of  the  days  of  your  life,  then  you  may  peruse  my  Agatharchia. 

Chapter  III.    Boys  of  noble  birth  more  than  others  should  be  instruct- 
ed in  the  humanities. 

If  it  is  the  duty  of  all  parents  to  afford  a  good  education  to 
their  children,  it  is  of  especial  importance  that  those  boys  who 
later  in  life  are  to  occupy  prominent  positions,  and  whose  words 
and  deeds  may  not  lie  in  obscurity,  should  be  instructed  in  the 
higher  branches  of  learning,  so  that  they  may  be  worthy  of 
their  fortune,  their  dignity  and  their  prominence.  It  is  a  rea- 
sonable condition,  that  those  who  demand  for  themselves  the 
highest  should  also  produce  the  highest.  There  is  no  safer 
nor  more  enduring  basis  for  dominion  than  that  those  who  rule 
should  be  considered  most  worthy  of  their  lordship. 

Chapter  IV.    Learning  and  virtue  are  more  to  be,  esteemed  than  all  else. 

Bvery  one  should  strive  for  learning  and  virtue,  which  alone 
confer  nobility.  These  are  to  be  striven  for  above  all  other 
things  to  which  the  human  mind  directs  itself.  For  money, 
honor  and  pleasure  are  changing  and  transitory.  The  posses- 
sion and  fruits  of  virtue  on  the  contrary  are  unassailable  and 
permanent,  and  make  their  possessor  immortal  and  happy. 


JACOB   WIMPHBLING.  147 

The  youth,  therefore,  especially  when  he  comes  of  distinguished 
parents,  should  be  reminded  with  especial  emphasis,  that  he 
may  value  the  soul's  advantage  and  not  the  gifts  of  fortune  and 
physical  accomplishments.  Each  day  he  should  exert  himself, 
in  order  that  he  may  not  become  an  awkward,  lazy,  stupid, 
foppish,  wanton  fellow,  as  in  our  day  most  of  the  noble-born 
are;  but  that  he  shall  be  intelligent  and  educated;  that  he  may 
be  well  instructed  from  his  youth  and  not  ignorant  of  the  hu- 
manities; that  he  shall  apply  himself  to  the  reading  of  Holy 
Writ;  that  he  may  be  well-bred,  just,  gentle  and  pious;  that 
he  may  be  no  friend  of  wastlings  and  buffoons,  or  of  such  as 
find  their  joy  in  biting  calumny,  or  of  such  as  in  any  way  out- 
rage good  breeding;  in  order  that  he  may  be  rather  a  friend  of 
clever  and  cultured  men. 

Chapter  V.     A  boy's  disposition  has  to  be  determined  at  the  start. 

In  the  first  place,  each  one  has  to  give  proof  of  his  talents 
and  capacity.  Since  on  account  of  their  age  this  cannot  be 
adequately  determined  in  the  case  of  boys,  it  will  be  necessary 
for  their  parents,  or  the  teachers  to  whom  the  youths  have  been 
entrusted,  to  observe  carefully  the  general  direction  of  their 
mind,  and  talents,  according  to  their  natural  dispositions. 
Their  studies  should  then  be  diverted  into  this  same  direction, 
and  with  these  studies  they  should  occupy  themselves  exclus- 
ively. 

Chapter  VII.     The  sons  of  the  great  shall  not  apply  themselves  exclus- 
ively to  the  chase. 

What  special  signification  has  the  art  of  the  chase — if  indeed 
this  employment  deserves  to  be  called  an  art — for  a  king  or  for 
a  noble  prince,  that  for  it  he  despises  and  neglects  all  other 
skilled  labors  and  exercises  of  the  body  ?  Is  it  not  true  that  an 
ordinary  man  of  base  extraction,  devoid  of  all  distinction,  of  all 
cleverness  and  aptitude,  may  be  quite  the  equal  of  a  prince  in 
the  exercise  of  the  chase?  The  worst  gallows-bird,  empty  of 
all  ability,  of  all  cleverness,  of  all  fear  of  the  lyOrd,  is  qualified 
to  apply  himself  to  this  "delight."  He  too  may  carry  the  horn 
which  hangs  about  his  neck;  he  too  may  jump  about  like  mad, 


148  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   GERMAN  RENAISSANCE. 

and  race  his  horse  here  and  there  through  field  and  forest,  and 
fill  the  air  with  cries;  he  too  in  peril  of  life  and  health  may  fol- 
low the  game  and  shoot  it  with  bow  or  gun  or  run  it  down 
with  hunting-spear. 

For  a  prince,  however,  that  would  be  a  more  laudable  art,  in 
which  a  man  of  common  birth  and  low  intelligence  could  not 
equal  him.  Therefore  he  shall  apply  himself  to  use  with  ease 
the  noblest  of  tongues  in  reading  and  in  speaking  and  particu- 
larly in  oral  intercourse  with  foreigners;  he  shall  consider  it 
furthermore  his  duty  to  learn  the  customs  of  the  ancients  and 
the  manners  of  foreign  lands;  he  shall  make  himself  acquainted 
with  historical  statements  and  relations,  such  as  serve  for 
agreeable  and  witty  entertainment  or  for  elevating  instruction; 
then  too,  the  holy  councils,  which  attend  to  the  interests  of  the 
individual  and  of  the  state,  as  well  as  to  public  and  civic  wel- 
fare, should  not  be  unfamiliar  to  him;  in  the  range  of  his 
knowledge  he  should  include  the  arts  of  peace  and  war,  as  well 
as  the  proper  training  of  children,  and  law  and  equity,  which 
may  serve  for  the  defence  of  justice  and  the  maintenance  of  right. 
Then  will  he  rise  above  his  subjects;  then  will  he  be  disting- 
uished from  them  in  his  actions;  then  will  he  draw  upon  him- 
self beyond  a  doubt  the  love  and  veneration  of  his  people. 

Chapter  VIII.     The  indications  of  good  natural  gifts. 

One  indication  of  ability  and  of  a  spirit  worthy  of  a  free  man 
is  shown  in  the  striving  after  praise  and  the  desire  for  honor. 
Hence  arises  the  contest  for  honor  and  distinction.  It  is  an- 
other token,  when  great  things  are  dared  for  praise  and  honor. 
A  third  token  betrays  itself  in  the  readiness  for  good  deeds,  in 
the  disinclination  for  idleness  and  in  the  desire  always  to  ac- 
complish something  of  importance.  A  fourth  is  shown  in  a 
dread  of  threats  and  blows,  and  a  still  greater  dread  of  dishonor 
and  shame.  Hence  arises  that  feeling  of  modesty  and  awe, 
which  is  of  the  highest  value  at  this  time  of  life.  It  is  also  a 
good  indication  when  boys  blush  on  being  reproved,  and  when 
they  mend  their  ways  after  having  been  chastised.  A  fifth  sign 
when  they  love  their  teachers  and  bear  neither  dislike  nor 
hatred  against  them  or  their  discipline.  A  sixth  sign  is  this: 


JA.COB  WIMPHBWNG.  149 

that  children  listen  willingly  to  their  parents  and  are  not  deaf 
to  their  well-meant  admonitions;  for  youth  is  inclined  to  sin, 
and  when  it  is  not  held  in  bounds  by  the  example  and  counsel 
of  older  people,  it  often  seeks  in  haste  the  road  of  destruction. 

Chapter  XL  VI.     The  fifteenth  rule  forbids  carousing. 

The  youth  shall  avoid  most  carefully  immoderate  use  of  wine 
and  intoxication.  Immoderate  use  of  wine  injures  the  health, 
and  seriously  limits  the  use  of  reason;  it  arouses  strife  and  war 
and  excites  evil  desires.  For  this  reason  the  Lacedaemonians 
permitted  drunken  slaves  to  come  before  them  at  their  meals, 
not  that  they  might  enjoy  their  disgusting  conversation  or 
their  filthy  actions — for  it  is  only  a  worthless  man  who  takes 
pleasure  in  the  faults  or  in  the  vices  of  others — but  that  they 
might  place  before  their  young  sons  a  living  example  of  the 
shamefulness  of  intoxication.  Was  there  ever  an  evil  greater 
than  this  infamy  ?  If  then  the  disfigurement  of  the  body  is  so 
disgusting,  how  great  is  to  be  regarded  the  deformity  and  re- 
pulsiveness  of  the  soul  disfigured  with  this  vice  ?  Whoever 
possesses  the  sense  of  shame  that  deters  him  from  that  so-called 
pleasure  of  eating  and  drinking,  which  man  has  in  common 
with  swine  and  donkeys,  he  may  consider  himself  fortunate. 
Socrates  indeed  said  that  many  men  lived  in  order  to  eat  and 
drink;  he,  however,  ate  and  drank  in  order  to  live. 

A  youth,  therefore,  who  desires  to  be  accounted  wise,  must 
never  smell  of  wine;  he  flees  drunkenness  as  he  would  poison; 
he  follows  not  the  seductions  of  the  palate,  for  a  full  stomach 
does  not  sharpen  his  senses.  A  pleasure  seeking  and  immod- 
erate youth  bequeaths  to  age  an  exhausted  body.  The  youth 
must  know  that  human  nature  is  content  with  little,  so  far  as 
needs  are  concerned;  in  respect  to  pleasure,  however,  nothing 
is  able  to  satisfy  it.  He  should  know,  finally,  that  food, 
taken  in  moderation,  is  conducive  to  health;  but  that  the  con- 
trary is  the  case  when  taken  in  excess.  Thus  saith  John  Chry- 
sostom;  "Nothing  is  so  pleasing  as  well-prepared  and  well- 
cooked  food;  nothing  more  conducive  to  health;  nothing  so  ef- 
fectually sharpens  the  wits;  nothing  drives  away  an  indisposi- 
tion so  quickly  as  a  moderate  refreshment.  An  excess,  however, 


ISO  SOURCE-BOOK  OF  THE   GERMAN  RENAISSANCE. 

produces  sickness  and  disorders,  and  calls  forth  discord.  The 
effects  of  hunger  are  equally  produced,  and  even  to  a  greater 
degree  and  with  more  disastrous  consequences  by  immoderate 
indulgence;  for  hunger  carries  a  man  off  in  a  few  days,  and 
delivers  him  from  pains  of  this  life.  Immoderation  in  food  and 
drink  destroys  the  human  body  and  causes  it  to  wither  and  saps 
its  strength  through  illness,  and  then  finally  takes  it  hence  in 
painful  death."  Jerome  held  this  view,  and  appealed  to  the 
physician  Hippocrates  and  his  expositor,  Galen. 

Let  the  German  youth  accustom  himself,  therefore,  to  be 
moderate  and  careful  with  his  food  and  drink,  so  that  the 
opinion  of  foreigners  may  not  be  justly  applied  to  him,  when 
they  say,  with  injustice,  and  without  ever  giving  thought  to 
their  own  shortcomings,  that  all  Germans  are  given  to  intoxi- 
cation and  drunkenness.  Young  men  may  believe  me  when  I 
say  that  I  have  known  many  a  young  man  who  has  wasted 
his  patrimony  in  debauchery  and  riotous  living,  and  finally  has 
seen  himself  compelled  in  misery  either  to  beg  his  bread  in 
shame  and  degradation  or  to  end  his  life  in  the  poorhouse. 

Chapter  XL  VII    The  sixteenth  rule  forbids  curling  the  hair. 

The  young  man  shall  turn  his  thoughts  to  neatness,  but  not 
to  such  a  degree  that  it  may  be  too  evident  or  seem  labored; 
he  shall  avoid  negligence,  which  betrays  a  rustic  mind  and  lack 
of  culture.  In  the  same  way  he  shall  look  to  his  attire,  and  in 
this  matter,  as  in  most  others,  the  golden  mean  is  to  be  pre- 
ferred. If  in  Holy  Writ  long  hair  is  forbidden  to  man  and 
youth,  as  being  conducive  to  dishonor,  how  much  heavier  an 
offence  is  it  then,  not  only  to  roll  up  and  curl  the  hair,  which 
naturally  grows  smooth  and  straight  and  is  adorned  with  pleas- 
ing colors,  but  also  to  moisten  and  dye  it  with  artificial  color. 
A  well-mannered  and  modest  youth  will  hold  himself  aloof  from 
such  deceit  and  feminine  practices;  for  nothing  was  so  certain 
a  sign  of  the  worst  of  all  vices  to  the  ancients  as  this  wicked  and 
shameful  custom  of  curling  the  hair.  Thus  Plautus  says  of  a 
certain  one:  "Thou  voluptuary  with  the  curly  hair!"  Curling 
the  hair  makes  a  woman  of  a  man;  it  softens  the  youth;  it  pro- 
duces an  abundance  of  vermin;  it  strives  in  vain  for  that  which 


JACOB  WIMPHEUNG.  151 

nature  has  forbidden;  it  is  a  sign  of  arrogance  and  bluster;  it 
betrays  epicureanism  and  sensuality;  it  offends  God  the  Ix>rd  and 
frightens  away  the  guardian  angel;  it  makes  the  head  heavy 
and  affects  the  brain;  it  weakens  the  memory  and  deforms  the 
countenance;  it  gives  old  age  a  horrid,  mangy  look;  it  is  evi- 
dence of  great  simpleness.  Is  there  anything  more  absurd  than 
to  hold  the  hair  in  estimation  above  the  head;  than  to  care 
more  for  the  color  of  the  hair  than  for  sprightliness  of  mind,  as 
the  brave  and  honest  poet  Diether  has  said  with  playful  grace 
to  your  distinguished  father.  Finally,  crimping  the  hair  shuts 
one  out  from  the  kingdom  of  Heaven;  for  how  will  God,  the 
best  and  highest  One  of  all,  deem  those  worthy  of  the  kingdom 
of  the  blest  who,  dissatisfied  with  the  form,  with  the  counte- 
nance, with  the  hair  which  he  has  given  them,  are  not  ashamed 
to  wear  false  hair,  to  slight  and  despise  that  divine  gift,  and  to 
seek  strange  gifts.  On  the  last  day  the  Judge  will  be  able  to 
confront  those  who  crimp  and  curl  the  hair  with  these  words: 
"I  have  not  created  this  man;  I  have  not  given  him  this  coun- 
tenance: this  is  not  the  hair  which  I  gave  him  at  birth."  Au- 
gustine bears  us  witness  with  these  words:  "God  is  against  the 
arrogant  and  those  that  curl  their  hair." 

EXTRACTS  FROM  THE  Agatharchia. 

Chapter  XIV.  The  Support  and  Direction  of  High  Schools. 
It  should  be  the  care  and  effort  of  a  prince,  that  scientific 
studies  should  flourish  in  his  principality  and  that  many  wise 
and  energetic  men  should  distinguish  themselves  therein.  In 
this  matter  you  will  do  well  to  imitate  your  father.  It  was  his 
earnest  desire,  that  the  high  school  at  Heidelberg  should  ad- 
vance in  all  excellent  sciences,  and  particularly  in  the  human- 
istic studies,  which  before  all  are  indispensable  to  young  men, 
and  of  value  in  the  still  more  important  exercise  of  the  sacred 
law;  for  it  is  not  sufficient  that  this  or  the  other  branch  of 
learning  should  enjoy  especial  prosperity  and  consideration  at 
the  high  school.  It  is  necessary  that  suitable  arrangements 
should  be  made  for  each  branch  of  learning,  through  the  whole 
range  of  the  higher  arts  and  sciences.  For  in  this  wise  such 
institutions  of  learning  show  themselves  worthy  of  the  name  of 


152  SOURCE-BOOK  OP  THE  GERMAN  RENAISSANCE. 

"University."*  Thus  your  father  acted  well  and  advisedly, 
when  he  founded  a  college  for  jurisprudence.  For  it  is  better 
that  teachers  and  pupils  should  dwell  together,  than  that  the 
latter  should  be  separated  and  scattered  hither  and  thither  in 
nooks  and  corners  without  supervision. 

Chapter  XV.    The  Desirability  of  having  suitable  Pastors  and  Teachers. 

A  prince  shall  nominate  or  appoint  for  his  pastors  and  for  the 
direction  of  his  scholars,  able,  learned  and  cultured  men, 
who  are  qualified  to  give  instruction.  And  although  in  other 
cases  princes  are  accustomed  to  state  their  desires  rather  vio- 
lently— as  some  one  has  said:  "When  princes  ask,  it  is  a  spec- 
ially emphatic  form  of  command,"  or  "The  mighty  put  their 
requests  with  a  drawn  sword" — yet  in  these  two  instances,  that 
is  to  say,  in  the  matter  of  the  cure  of  souls  and  the  education 
of  children,  the  prince  shall  not  advance  any  one  he  chooses  to 
an  academic  standard;  he  shall  not  personally  advance  the 
claims  of  his  favorite  without  due  consideration;  he  shall  not 
confide  to  an  inexperienced  man  a  responsible  position  as  pastor, 
simply  because  his  father  understood  his  business  or  his  service 
as  cook,  huntsman,  fowler  or  zither-player,  to  the  injury  of  the 
man's  own  soul  and  to  the  detriment  of  the  prince  himself.  A 
prince  will  have  to  give  an  account  of  all  these  things.  It 
would  be  more  to  the  purpose  to  bestow  offices  of  this  sort  upon 
men  of  distinction,  mature  and  blameless  men,  who  have  ac- 
quired a  fund  of  human  experience,  who  are  able  to  awaken 
confidence,  who  are  thoughtful  of  the  welfare  of  their  native 
land,  who  loved  God  and  the  salvation  of  souls  more  than  all 
other  things,  who  allow  themselves  to  be  diverted  by  nothing, 
neither  by  the  arrangements  of  this  or  that  one,  nor  by  the  de- 
mands of  the  faculty  or  the  bursary,  but  simply  and  exclusively 
look  to  the  morality,  the  intellectual  advancement,  the  elo- 
quence and  the  progress  of  those  who  are  entrusted  to  their 
care.  It  is  also  not  to  be  permitted  that  at  a  high  school  one 
faculty  should  subordinate,  encroach  upon  or  oppress  another. 
The  prosperity  of  the  high  school  and  due  respect  for  the 

*Academia  Universitatum. 


JACOB  WIMPHELING.  153 

founder  demand  rather,  that  the  faculty  which  was  first  estab- 
lished should  not  give  way;  reason  suggests  that  equilibrium 
should  be  preserved;  equal  labor  and  equal  remuneration,  and 
in  a  similar  way,  equal  consideration  on  the  part  of  those 
whose  privilege  it  is  to  bestow  rewards  and  favors.  Especially 
are  those  self-seeking  souls  to  be  kept  at  a  distance  who  do  not 
hesitate,  for  their  own  advantage  and  with  unseemly  perti- 
nacity in  their  own  behalf,  to  undermine  the  whole  academic 
structure,  to  violate  every  approved  regulation,  to  destroy  the 
sacred  harmony  and  break  down  a  just  distribution  of  stipends. 

Chapter  XVII,  The  Training  of  Princely  Children. 
A  prince  should  see  to  it,  that  his  children  are  well  educated 
and  well  trained,  and  that  from  their  earliest  years  they  are  di- 
rected toward  humanistic  studies.  They  should  be  able  also  to 
use  the  Latin  language  in  a  satisfactory  manner.  This  will  re- 
dound to  their  honor  in  the  assemblies  of  princes,  in  their  in- 
tercourse with  ecclesiastical  dignitaries,  in  the  reception  of 
cardinals  or  in  their  intercourse  with  foreigners.  Julius  and 
Augustus,  Marcus  Cato,  King  Robert  of  Sicily,  Constantine, 
Charles  the  Great  and  other  princes  and  their  sons  have  neither 
impaired  the  honor  of  their  names  in  any  way  through  such 
study,  nor  have  they  discovered  therein  any  diminution  of  their 
martial  glory.  What  the  characteristics  of  a  good  teacher  are,  I 
have  already  indicated  in  my  hidoneus.  As  to  how  they  should 
bring  up  their  boys,  they  may  peruse  the  letter  of  Aeneas  Silvius 
to  L<adislas.*  In  the  training  of  older  pupils  they  should 
govern  themselves  by  Holy  Writ  and  the  writings  of  the  heathen. 
They  may  find  inspiration  also  in  the  treatise  which  John  Ger- 
son  addressed  to  the  confessor  of  Charles  VII.  King  of  France; 
above  all  they  should  not  neglect  the  Summa  of  John  Gallensis.f 

Chapter  XXII.     Precautions  against  the  Artificial  Raising  of  Prices. 

A  prince  should  take  care  that  well-filled  granaries  are  at 
hand  for  the  benefit  of  his  people,  so  that  an  occasional  famine 

*Cf.  Source-Book  of  the  Italian  Renaissance,  p.  59,  et  seq. 
fEnglish  Franciscan  monk.    Taught  at  University  of  Paris  in   1279. 
His  Summa  Collationum  was  a  book  of  aphorisms. 


154  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE  GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

may  be  mitigated  by  means  of  the  surplus  of  foregoing  years. 
He  shall  also  take  precautions;  so  that  when,  to  punish  us  for 
our  sins,  God  in  his  wisdom  limits  the  increase  of  fruits  or  sends 
destructive  storms  upon  us,  prices  shall  not  rise  out  of  reach 
through  the  insatiable  avarice  of  priests  or  citizens.  He  shall 
see  that  just  prices  are  made,  so  that  the  scarcity  may  be  more 
endurable  for  the  poor  ;  for  there  are  such  as  collect  and  heap 
together  the  harvests  of  several  years,  and  hold  them  back  pur- 
posely, in  order  that  they  may  sell  these  products  at  advanced 
prices.  People  of  this  kind  sometimes  bring  about  an  advance 
in  prices  merely  by  their  avarice.  If  your  father  Philip  had 
not  broken  this  up  and  forbidden,  in  years  past,  that  the  price 
of  a  bushel  of  wheat  should  exceed  16  solidi,*  the  price  of  the 
same  would  have  risen  to  a  pound  denarii  or  nearly  to  two 
pounds  and  this  merely  through  the  wantoness  of  avaricious 
people,  who  cared  not  whether  poor  people  suffered  hunger  or 
even  died  of  hunger,  if  they  themselves  could  get  rich.  I  speak 
from  experience. 

Chapter  XXIII.  To  Prevent  the  exportation  of  Gold  and  Silver. 
A  prince  shall  take  precautions,  in  so  far  as  it  is  possible 
without  offence  toward  God,  that  neither  gold  nor  silver  shall 
be  taken  out  of  his  territory  into  foreign  lands,  unless  a  complete 
equivalent  therefore  is  returned.  I  do  not  know  why  it  is  that 
other  people  have  contracted  the  habit  of  draining  the  German 
nation  dry,  while  no  gain  comes  to  us  from  foreign  lands.  The 
Roman  annates,  the  spices  and  fabrics  of  Venice,  the  Italian 
rectorates,  the  French  jugglers  and  players,  the  regular  orders, 
their  hospitals  and  settlements  carry  enormous  sums  out  of  our 
lands.  Our  people,  however,  have  only  one  order  founded  for 
the  Germans,  and  this  has  obtained  in  all  France  not  one 
cloister,  nor  a  single  settlement,  nor  any  kind  of  income  what 
soever.  The  French,  on  the  contrary,  have  in  our  midst  the 
Antonines.t  the  Valentinians,  the  Benedictines  and  many 

*According  to  the  Carolingian  coinage  regulations  the  pound  silver 
was  divided  into  20  solidi  or  into  240  denarii. 

t Established  1095.  Under  Boniface  VIII,  changed  to  a  congregation 
of  Augustinians  ;  1774  united  with  the  order  of  Malta  ;  dissolved  in  the 
revolutionary  period. 


SEBASTIAN   BRANT.  155 

others ;  not  to  speak  of  the  Cistercians  and  Praemonstraten- 
sians.  So  great  is  either  the  simplicity  or  the  generosity  of  the 
Germans. 

SEBASTIAN  BRANT. 

Sebastian  Brant  (1458-1521)  was  born  at  Strasburg,  studied  at  the  uni- 
versity of  Basel,  became  doctor  of  civil  and  canon  law,  and  taught  at 
Basel  until  1501,  when  he  returned  to  his  native  town.  There  he  held 
several  municipal  offices  and  in  1521  was  given  charge  of  an  embassy  to 
Ghent  by  the  emperor,  Charles  V. 

Brant's  Narrenschijf,  or  Ship  of  Fools  (Basel,  1494)  was  one  of  the  most 
popular  books  of  the  sixteenth  century.  The  work  passed  through  num- 
erous editions  and  was  translated  into  many  modern  languages.  Alexander 
Barclay's  Ship  of  Fooles  (1509)  is  based  upon  Brant's  work,  but  is  so  ex- 
panded and  diluted  that  the  vigor  of  the  original  is  lost.  The  Narren- 
schijfhas  no  purpose,  other  than  that  of  a  satirical  presentation  of  the 
weaknesses  and  foibles  of  society.  Along  with  other  classes  of  society  it 
handles  somewhat  roughly  the  shortcomings  of  the  clergy,  and  in  this 
wise  furnished  material  for  the  opponents  of  the  church.  Brant,  how- 
ever, was  thoroughly  orthodox,  and  wrote  without  polemical  motive  and 
without  hostility  to  the  religious  institutions  of  his  time. 

FROM  THE  Narrenschiff* 

The  foremost  rank  they've  given  me, 
Since  I  have  many  useless  books, 
Which  I  neither  read  nor  understand. 

(i)  Of  Useless  Books. 

That  I  sit  in  this  ship  foremost 
A  special  meaning  has  in  truth, 
And  is  not  done  without  a  cause. 
For  I  rely  upon  my  books, 
Of  which  I  have  a  great  supply, 
But  of  their  contents  know  no  word, 
And  hold  them  yet  in  such  respect, 
That  I  will  keep  them  from  the  flies. 
When  people  speak  of  knowledge,  I  say 
I  have  a  lot  of  it  at  home  ; 

*Sebastian  Brant's  Narrenschiff,  herausgegeben  von  F.  Zarnke, 
Leipzig,  1854. 


156  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE  GERMAN  RENAISSANCE. 

And  am  content  with  this  alone, 

To  see  a  lot  of  books  about. 

King  Ptolemy,  he  so  contrived, 

That  he  had  all  the  books  in  the  world, 

And  held  them  for  a  treasure  great. 

Still  he^had  not  the'  law  of  truth, 

Nor  knew  well  how  to  use  his  books. 

So  I  have  many  books  as  well, 

And  very  few  of  them  peruse. 

Why  should  I  break  my  head  on  them, 

And  bother  myself  with  lore  at  all  ? 

Who  studies  much  becomes  a  guy. 

Myself,  I'd  rather  be  a  man, 

And  pay  people  to  learn  for  me. 

Although  I  have  a  clownish  mind, 

Yet  when  I  am  with  learned  folk, 

I  know  how  to  say  "//a  "  for  yes. 

Of  German  orders  I  am  proud, 

For  little  Latin  do  I  know. 

I  know  that  vinum  stands  for  wine, 

Cuculus  for  gawk,  stullus  for  fool, 

That  "  Domine  Doctor  "  I  am  called. 

If  my  ears  were  not  hid  for  me 

A  miller's  beast  you  you'd  quickly  see. 


Who  studies  not  the  proper  art, 
He  surely  wears  the  cap  and  bells, 
Is  led  forth  on  the  string  of  fools. 

(27)  Of  Useless  Studies. 

The  students  I  cannot  neglect ; 

They  too  are  taxed  with  cap  and  bells, 

And  when  they  put  their  headgear  on 

The  point  may  somewhat  backward  hang. 

For  when  they  ought  to  study  hard, 

They'd  rather  go  and  fool  about. 

To  youth  all  learning's  trivial. 

Just  now  they'd  rather  spend  their  time 


MAXIMILIAN   I.  157 

With  what  is  vain  and  of  no  use. 

The  masters  have  the  selfsame  fault, 

In  that  true  learning  they  despise 

And  useless  trash  alone  regard  : 

As  to  whether  it's  day  or  night 

Or  whether  a  man  a  donkey  made, 

Or  Socrates  or  Plato  walked. 

Such  learning  now  the  schools  employs. 

Are  they  not  fools  and  stupid  quite 

That  go  about  by  day  and  night, 

Among  themselves  and  other  folk  ? 

For  better  learning  they've  no  care. 

Of  them  it  is  that  Origen 

Speaks,  when  he  says  that  they  are  like 

The  frogs  and  grasshoppers  that  once 

Th'  Egyptian  land  reduced  to  waste. 

And  so  the  young  men  get  them  hence 

While  we  at  Leipzig,  Erfurt,  Wien, 

Heidelberg,  Mainz  and  Bale  hold  out. 

But  come  back  home  although  with  shame, 

The  money  by  that  time  is  spent. 

And  then  they're  glad  to  turn  to  trade, 

And  then  one  learns  to  bring  in  wine, 

And  soon  turns  out  a  serving  man. — 

The  student  cap  will  get  its  bells. 

MAXIMILIAN  I. 

Maximilian  I.,  emperor  of  Germany  from  1493  to  1519,  son  of  Frederick 
III.,  emperor  and  founder  of  the  Hapsburg  power  in  modern  Europe,  was 
born  in  1459.  *n  J477  Maximilian  married  Mary  of  Burgundy,  heiress  of 
Charles  the  Bold,  thereby  securing  to  his  line  the  succession  to  the  rich 
possessions  of  the  house  of  Burgundy. 

In  addition  to  his  patronage  of  literature  and  the  arts,  Maximilian 
found  leisure  for  literary  composition.  Among  the  works  attributed  to 
him  are  the  Theuerdank..  a  poetical  allegory,  setting  forth  the  adventures 
of  his  courtship,  and  the  Weisskunig,  a  general  record  of  his  life,  in  prose. 
Just  what  part  may  be  ascribed  to  Maximilian  in  the  preparation  of  this 
work  is  uncertain.  It  is  believed,  however,  that  the  emperor  furnished 
the  material,  and  that  the  literary  form,  of  the  Weisskunig  at  least,  was 
the  contribution  of  his  secretary,  Treitzsauerwein. 


158  SOURCE-BOOK  OF  THE  GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

FROM  THE   Weisskunig.* 
How  the  Queen  gave  birth  to  a  son. 

When  now  the  time  of  the  child's  birth  drew  near,  there  was 
seen,  but  as  yet  not  clearly,  a  comet  in  the  sky,  and  it  gave 
rise  to  many  opinions.  The  old  white  king,  likewise  the  exiled 
prince  and  all  the  folk  of  the  entire  kingdom  cried  aloud  to 
God,  with  great  devotion,  asking  that  through  his  divine  grace 
all  the  people  might  have  occasion  to  rejoice  in  the  queen's  safe 
delivery.  When  any  Christian  man  contemplates  the  mighty 
grace  which  Almighty  God  conferred  upon  them  both  in  this 
world,  as  for  example,  the  highest  spiritual  and  temporal  honor 
of  their  coronation  at  Rome  ;  and  when  he  thinks  as  well  of 
their  piety  and  humility,  that  in  their  love  of  God  they  visited 
and  sought  to  honor  all  holy  places  in  the  City  of  Rome  and 
elsewhere  ;  then  he  need  not  doubt  that  God  heard  this  prayer 
out  of  his  benign  tenderness,  for  all  good  things  come  from 
God.  And  on  this  day  and  at  the  hour  of  the  child's  birth  the 
selfsame  comet  appeared  much  larger  than  before  and  gave 
forth  a  clear  and  brilliant  light.  Although  comets,  for  many 
reasons,  usually  make  melancholy  the  heart  of  him  who  looks 
upon  them,  yet  this  comet  with  its  glow  was  pleasing  to  look 
upon,  so  that  each  heart  was  moved  at  the  sight  of  the  comet, 
and  thereby  its  special  influence  was  a  sign  and  revelation  of 
the  child's  birth.  In  the  midst  of  this  appearance  of  the  comet, 
the  queen,  through  the  divine  grace  granted  and  bestowed 
upon  her,  in  the  city  called  the  Neustadt,  bore  her  child  with 
gentle  pains,  and  was  in  her  delivery  greatly  rejoiced,  because 
the  child  was  a  beautiful  son.  Then  out  of  joy  they  began  to 
ring  the  bells  and  throughout  the  whole  kingdom  were  lighted 
countless  fires  of  rejoicing.  How  great  was  the  joy  of  the  old 
white  king  and  all  the  people  of  his  kingdom,  over  this  happy 
birth.  Now  when  the  child  was  born,  the  comet  ceased  at  once 
with  its  glow,  whereby  it  is  to  be  recognized  that  the  same 

*  Der  Weiss  Kunig ;  eine  Erzehlung  von  den  Thaten  Kaiser  Maxi- 
milian I.,  von  M.  Treitzsaurwein  auf  dessen  Angeben  zusammengetragen, 
nebet  den  von  H.  Burgmair  dazu  verfertigten  Holtzschnitten.  Wien, 
1775- 


MAXIMILIAN   I.  159 

comet  was  a  token  of  the  child's  future  rule  and  of  his  won- 
drous deeds.  And  the  exiled  prince  recognized  that  by  this 
comet  his  counsel  was  confirmed  through  the  influence  of 
heaven,  and  he  also  requested  that  he  might  raise  the  child 
from  the  baptismal  font,  to  which  office  he  was  called  by  the 
old  white  king,  since  the  prince  himself  was  born  of  kingly 
race.  One  thing  will  I  make  known  :  that  when  this  child 
came  to  his  years  and  to  his  rule,  he  was  most  victorious  and 
most  warlike,  and  to  look  upon  his  countenance  he  was  most 
gracious,  which  indeed  is  wonderful  to  see  in  one  who  is  war- 
like and  of  all  most  warlike ;  in  this  may  be  recognized  the 
comet's  bold  and  frank  appearance,  and  its  gracious  aspect,  as 
a  token  of  the  future. 

Note,  that  the  king's  countenance  is  likened  to  this  gracious 
aspect. 

How  the  young  white  king  learned  the  black  art, 

In  this  advancement  of  the  young  white  king,  his  father,  the 
old  white  king,  took  great  satisfaction,  and  his  heart  beat  so 
high  with  joy  that  a  terror  seized  him  when  he  thought  that 
all  joys  should  have  their  source  in  the  praise  and  honor  of 
God;  and  in  this  manner  his  spirit  was  deeply  moved  to  con- 
sider the  future  upholding  of  the  Christian  faith.  How  great 
was  his  emotion !  He  recalled  how  often  in  former  times,  pow- 
erful kings  in  their  later  years  were  fallen  away  from  the  true 
belief  into  a  new  faith,  all  of  which  had  come  about  solely 
through  the  seduction  of  the  black  art.  Much  is  to  be  written 
thereof,  but  as  a  proof  of  what  I  write,  this  same  art  is  for- 
bidden in  the  Christian  faith  and  by  the  ordinances  of  imperial 
law,  and  exterminated,  whereby  it  must  be  let  alone,  for  the 
soul's  salvation  and  for  the  increase  of  our  faith.  Although 
this  art  is  damning  to  the  soul  and  an  injury  to  our  faith,  yet 
the  human  spirit  is  so  weak  and  diseased  in  its  constancy,  in 
its  determination  to  discover  hidden  things,  that  this  art,  whose 
false  basis  and  unreality  is  hidden,  is  so  very  dear  to  man  that 
many  come  thereby  into  error  and  despair.  Now  the  young 
white  king  often  heard  speak  of  this  art,  and  from  time  to  time 
he  chanced  to  see  the  very  ablest  writings,  wherein  this  art  is 
set  forth.  In  the  midst  of  the  joy  and  the  contemplation  of  the 


160  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

old  white  king,  as  related  above,  the  young  white  king  came 
to  him.  Then  spake  the  father  to  the  son:  "  What  think  you 
and  how  do  you  regard  the  black  art,  which  is  a  damnation  to 
the  soul,  and  a  crime  and  seduction  to  men  ?  Are  you  not  dis- 
posed to  learn  it?"  Thus  did  the  father  for  the  purpose  of 
making  evident  to  him  the  hidden  seduction,  and  to  plant 
future  doubts.  The  son  gave  him  answer:  "St.  Paul,  that 
most  excellent  teacher  of  the  Christian  faith,  writes  and  com- 
mands us  that  we  shall  learn  all  things  and  experience  all 
things,  but  avoid  the  ill  and  cleave  to  that  which  is  good. ' ' 
Thereupon  spake  the  father  to  the  son:  "  Go  hence  and  take 
to  yourself  the  most  learned  man  in  the  black  art,  and  investi- 
gate it  thoroughly;  but  bear  in  mind  the  first  commandment  of 
God :  Thou  shalt  believe  in  one  God ;  and  also  St.  Paul's 
teaching,  which  you  have  just  indicated  tome."  The  young 
white  king  sought  out  an  especially  learned  man  in  the  black 
art,  who  began  to  teach  him  with  uncommon  industry,  with 
the  idea  that  this  same  art  should  be  looked  upon  by  the  prince 
as  good  and  useful  and  held  dear.  And  when  the  young  white 
king  had  studied  it  for  a  time,  and  satisfied  himself  of  its  use- 
lessness,  he  discovered  that  the  art  was  contrary  to  the  first 
commandment  of  God,  which  reads:  Thou  shalt  believe  in  one 
God;  and  for  the  first  time  he  understood  St.  Paul's  teaching, 
for  he  who  has  not  experience  of  it  easily  believes,  and  thereby 
it  often  comes  about  that  he  is  led  astray.  For  a  while  the 
learned  man  disputed  with  the  young  white  king,  in  order  to 
discover  his  spirit  and  his  desire,  and  then  he  said  to  him  : 
"This  art  is  an  art  whereby  great  lords  may  increase  their 
power."  Then  asked  the  young  white  king  of  him,  whether 
there  were  more  gods  than  one.  Thereupon  he  answtred: 
"  There  is  but  one  God."  Upon  this  answer  the  young  white 
king  said:  "You  have  spoken  truly,  and  thereby  is  the  black 
art  vain,  and  the  learning  which  I  have  discovered  in  the  same, 
the  seduction  of  our  faith. ' '  From  this  speech  the  learned  man 
easily  perceived  that  he  was  sufficiently  instructed  in  this  lore. 
With  how  great  wisdom  had  the  old  white  king  made  the  re- 
flection above  related,  and  how  prolific  of  usefulness  was  it  to 
the  Christian  faith;  for  when  the  young  white  king  came  into 


MAXIMILIAN    I.  l6l 

his  years  and  into  his  powerful  reign,  he  permitted  no  unbelief 
nor  heresy  to  be  kindled  or  spread  abroad,  which,  however, 
have  often  obtained  the  upper  hand;  and  indeed  it  has  hap- 
pened from  time  to  time  that,  through  the  confidence  and  by 
permission  of  inexperienced  men,  men  of  evil  have  been 
strengthened  in  their  desperate  enterprises  and  have  adhered 
to  them,  a  thing  which  these  kings  through  their  careful  ex- 
perience and  their  especial  wisdom  have  avoided,  to  the  salva- 
tion and  happiness  of  their  souls  and  to  the  maintenance  of  the 
Christian  religion. 

How  the  young  white  king  came  to  the  young  queen,  and  how  he  was 

received. 

When  the  young  white  king  was  on  his  way  to  visit  the 
aforesaid  young  queen,  then  was  this  announced  to  the  two 
queens  aforesaid.  Thereupon  they  were  filled  with  great  joy 
and  wrote  at  once  to  all  their  retainers,  and  let  them  know  as 
well  of  the  approach  of  the  young  white  king.  The  retainers 
tarried  not,  but  came  without  hindrance  to  the  two  queens. 
Then  counsel  was  taken  of  them  as  to  how  the  young  white 
king  should  be  received.  Thereupon  was  written  to  the  young 
white  king,  he  should  come  into  the  city  named  Ghent,  and 
the  two  queens,  with  their  retainers,  would  also  come  hither; 
and  as  soon  as  this  letter  had  been  dispatched  to  the  young 
white  king,  the  two  queens,  with  their  retainers,  drew  into  the 
said  city  and  there  awaited  the  arrival  of  the  young  white  king, 
who,  af  er  a  few  days,  himself  came  thither;  and  on  the  same 
day  that  he  entered  the  city  there  rode  toward  him,  first,  the 
citizens  of  the  city,  most  elegantly  arrayed,  then  all  the  retain- 
ers, princes,  bishops,  prelates,  counts,  lords,  knights  and 
squires,  a  great  multitude;  then  the  whole  clergy,  with  all  the 
sacred  relics,  in  a  procession,  and  all  the  people  of  the  city, 
and  received  the  young  king  with  great  honor  and  high  dis- 
tinction, and  with  especial  joy;  and  he,  too,  rode  into  the  city, 
with  great  concourse,  in  costly  array  and  royal  honors,  and  all 
who  saw  him  felt  an  especial  pleasure  in  his  beautiful  youth 
and  upright  bearing,  and  the  common  folk  said,  they  had  never 
seen  a  finer  youth,  and  they  were  filled  with  amazement,  that 
the  old  white  king,  his  father,  should  have  sent  his  son,  in  the 


1 62  SOURCE-BOOK   OP  THE   GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

beauty  of  his  youth,  so  far  into  a  foreign  land;  and  the  young 
king  was  festively  entertained  at  his  lodging,  which  was  decor- 
ated for  him  in  the  richest  manner.  The  two  queens  had  pre- 
pared towards  evening  a  grand  banquet,  and  sent  to  the  young 
king  persons  of  high  degree,  to  invite  him  to  the  banquet, 
where  the  two  queens  would  receive  him  in  person;  and  when 
he  would  go  to  the  banquet  he  dressed  and  adorned  himself 
with  elegant  clothes  and  jewels,  and  went  with  his  princes, 
nobles  and  knights,  in  royal  array,  to  the  banquet.  Then 
night  came  on  and  the  throng  was  great,  and  there  were  many 
torches,  for  each  wished  to  see  the  young  white  king.  Mean- 
while the  two  young  queens  were  alone  together  in  an  apart- 
ment, and  conversing  together  said  that  they  would  like  to  see 
the  young  king  secretly.  Thereupon  the  old  queen,  the  young 
queen's  mother,  disguised  herself  in  strange  garments  and  went 
secretly  and  unknown  out  of  the  apartment  into  the  hall,  where 
the  young  white  king  should  come.  Now  the  crowd  of  people 
was  so  great  that  for  a  long  time  the  old  queen  was  unable  to 
get  past,  and  was  obliged  secretly  to  seek  aid,  and  when  finally 
she  came  past  the  people,  at  that  same  moment  the  young  white 
king  entered  the  hall,  and  when  he  was  pointed  out  to  her  at 
first  she  would  not  believe  that  it  was  the  young  white  king, 
for  she  thought  he  was  too  handsome,  and  that  she  had  never 
seen  a  youth  so  fine,  and  she  tarried  to  see  which  of  all  really 
was  the  young  white  king.  And  now  she  saw  that  all  honor 
was  done  to  this  same  handsome  youth,  and  moreover  that  he 
was  escorted  by  the  mighty  archbishops  and  princes,  and  that 
this  youth  could  be  no  other  than  the  young  white  king. 
Thereupon  the  old  queen  went  in  haste  to  her  daughter,  the 
young  queen,  in  her  chamber,  and  said  from  the  depths  of  her 
heart:  "O  daughter,  no  such  beautiful  youth  have  I  seen  as 
the  young  white  king,  and  this  young  king  shall  be  thy  lord 
and  consort,  and  no  other. ' '  From  these  words  it  is  seen  that 
the  king  of  France  and  his  son  came  to  grief  with  their  secret 
wooing,  which  I  have  mentioned  before. 

For  the  young  white  king  was  indeed  a  comely  youth,  well 
built  in  body  and  bone,  and  had  a  sweet  and  lovely  counte- 
nance and  wonderfully  beautiful  yellow  hair  ;  he  was  called,  on 


'DESIDERIUS  ERASMUS.  163 

account  of  his  beauty  and  his  fitness,  the  white  king  with  the 
gracious  countenance.  Now  when  the  young  white  king  stood 
in  the  middle  of  the  hall,  the  two  queens  advanced  to  him  with 
great  elegance  and  received  him  with  royal  honors,  with  great 
joy  and  friendliness.  And  as  soon  as  the  young  queen  saw  the 
young  white  king  she  was  pleased  with  his  person,  and  with 
this  same  contentment  her  heart  became  inflamed  with  hon- 
orable love  toward  him.  In  this  same  hour,  with  her  royal 
consent,  the  marriage  was  confidentially  discussed  and  joyfully 
determined  upon,  and  thereafter  the  banquet  with  great  enjoy- 
ment carried  out.  How  rich  in  joy  was  indeed  this  banquet, 
where  such  a  royal  marriage,  between  two  persons  of  the 
greatest  worth  and  beauty,  was  concluded  ! 

DESIDERIUS  ERASMUS. 

Desiderius  Erasmus  (1467-1536),  as  he  called  himself  according  to  the 
literary  fashion  of  the  time,  changing  the  name  of  Gerhard  to  its  Latin 
and  Greek  equivalent,  was  born  at  Rotterdam,  a  natural  son  of  Gerhard 
of  Praet.  Left  an  orphan  at  an  early  age,  he  was  induced  against  his  in- 
clination to  take  monastic  vows  in  1486,  but  effected  his  release  from  a 
life  which  he  found  distasteful,  and  went  to  Paris  as  secretary  to  the 
Bishop  of  Cambray.  A  student  at  the  university  of  Paris,  Erasmus' 
health  was  broken  with  the  privations  undergone,  both  in  Paris  and  dur- 
ing the  following  years  of  scant  existence.  To  Lord  Mountjoy,  whom  he 
tutored  at  Paris,  he  owed  an  introduction  to  English  society,  and  an  ac- 
quaintance with  the  English  scholars,  More  and  Colet.  In  1506  he  made 
the  journey  to  Italy,  and  published  from  the  Aldine  press  his  book  of 
Adages  (printed  for  the  first  time  in  1500).  In  1509  Erasmus  returned  to 
England,  hoping  much  from  the  new  king,  Henry  VIII.,  who  as  a  prince 
was  favorably  inclined  toward  learning.  At  this  time  he  composed  in 
England  the  Praise  of  Folly,  best  known  of  Erasmus'  works,  perhaps  be- 
cause the  Reformers  found  in  it  such  valuable  material  for  their  attack 
upon  the  Roman  church. 

Dissatisfied  with  England  as  a  place  of  residence,  partly  on  account  of 
the  indifference  of  the  king,  and  partly  because  of  its  remoteness  from 
the  great  centres  of  publication,  Erasmus  returned  to  the  continent  in 
1513,  and  took  up  his  residence  at  Basel.  Here  he  lived  the  greater  part 
of  his  remaining  years,  engaged  in  literary  work.  The  Reformation 
broke  in  rudely  upon  his  labors.  While  sympathizing  with  Luther's 
early  attempt  to  check  the  abuses  of  the  church,  Erasmus'  interests  were 
not  theological.  His  work — and  few  men  worked  more  strenuously — 


164  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE  GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

was  literary.  To  him  all  was  unwelcome  that  threatened  the  repose 
necessary  for  the  intellectual  development  of  Europe.  The  Reformers, 
unable  to  recognize  his  position  or  to  sympathize  with  a  condition  of  in- 
difference toward  theological  matters,  branded  him  a  moral  coward,  and 
traces  of  this  unjust  stigma  have  outlived  the  period  of  dogmatic  contro- 
versy and  lingered  on  into  modern  times. 

Of  Erasmus'  numerous  works  the  Colloquies  is  said  to  have  had  the 
greatest  immediate  circulation.  "No  book,"  says  Hoefer,  "passed 
through  so  many  editions  in  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries  as 
the  Colloquies  of  Erasmus.  In  them  the  author  is  found  at  his  best,  with 
all  that  nicety  of  observation,  that  caustic  and  incisive  vein,  that  purity, 
that  versatility  and  elegance  of  style  which  justify  for  Erasmus  the  name 
of  the  Voltaire  of  the  sixteenth  century." 

For  the  latest  contribution  from  a  scholarly  source  to  the  history  of 
Erasmus,  cf.  Dr.  Ephraim  Emerton's  Desiderius  Etasmus,  in  the 
"  Heroes  of  the  Reformation  "  series,  Putnatns,  N.  Y.,  1899. 

TWO  COU.OO.UIES.* 

/.  Naufragiutn. 

A.  These  are  dreadful  things  that  you  tell.     Is  that  sailing  ? 
God  forbid  that  any  such  idea  should  come  into  my  head. 

B.  Indeed,  what  I  have  related  is  mere  child's  play  compared 
with  what  you  are  about  to  hear. 

A.  I  have  heard  more  than  enough  of  mishaps.     I  shudder 
while  you  narrate  them,  as  though  I  myself  were  present  at 
the  danger. 

B.  Indeed,  to  me  past  struggles  are  pleasing.     That  night 
something  happened  which  almost  took  away  the  captain's  last 
hope  of  safety. 

A.  What,  I  pray  ? 

B.  The  moon  was  bright  that  night,  and  one  of  the  sailors 
was  standing  on  the  round-top  (for  so  it  was  called,  I  believe) 
keeping  a  lookout  for  land.     A  globe  of  fire  appeared  beside 
him.     It  is  considered  by  sailors  to  be  an  evil  omen  if  the  fire 
be  single,  a  good  omen  if  it  be  double.     In  ancient  times  these 
were  thought  to  be  Castor  and  Pollux. 

A.  What  have  they  to  do  with  sailors  ?     One  of  them  was  a 
horseman,  the  other  a  boxer. 

*Opera  omnia  (edidit  J.  Clericus)  I/vgd.  Bat.,  P.  van  der  Aa.,  1703-1706. 


DESIDERIUS  ERASMUS.  165 

B.  Well  this  is  the  view  of  the  poets.  The  captain  who  was 
sitting  at  the  helm,  spoke  up.  "Mate,"  said  he,  (for  sailors 
address  each  other  in  this  manner, )  "  do  you  see  what  is  beside 
you  ?"  "I  see ,"  he  replied,  "  and  I  hope  it  may  be  lucky." 
By  and  by  the  globe  of  fire  descended  along  the  rigging  and 
rolled  up  to  the  feet  of  the  captain  himself. 

A.  Did  he  perish  with  fear. 

B.  Sailors   are   accustomed  to  strange   sights.     The  globe 
stayed  there  a  while,  then  rolled  along  the  side  of  the  vessel 
and  disappeared  down  through  the  middle  of  the  deck.    About 
noon  the  storm  began  to  rage  with  great  fury.     Have  you  ever 
seen  the  Alps  ? 

A.  Yes,  I  have  seen  them. 

B.  Those  mountains  are  mole-hills  compared  with  the  waves 
of  the  sea.     When  we  were  lifted  up  on  the  crest  of  a  wave, 
we  might  have  touched  the  moon  with  our  fingers.     As  often 
as  we  went  down  between  the  billows,  we  seemed  to  be  going 
direct  to  the  infernal  regions,  the  earth  opening  to  receive  us. 

A.  Foolish  people,  that  trust  themselves  to  the  sea  ! 

B.  The  sailors  struggled  in  vain  against  the  tempest,  and  at 
length  the  captain,  quite  pale,  came  toward  us. 

A.  That  pallor  presages  some  great  evil. 

B.  ' '  Friends, ' '  says  he,  ' '  I  have  lost  control  of  my  ship.    The 
winds  have  conquered  me,  and  nothing  remains  but  to  put  our 
trust  in  God,  and  for  every  one  to  prepare  himself  for  the  last 
extremity. ' ' 

A.  O  speech  truly  Scythian! 

B.  "But  first,"  says  he,  "we  shall  relieve  the  ship  of  her 
cargo.     Necessity,    a  stern  mistress,    commands  this.     It   is 
better  to  save  our  lives,  with  the  loss  of  our  goods,  than  to 
perish  along  with  our  goods. ' '     The  truth  of  this  was  evident 
to  us;  and  many  vessels  full  of  precious  wares  were  thrown  into 
the  sea. 

A.  This  was  indeed  a  loss ! 

B.  There  was  a  certain  Italian  who  had  been  upon  an  em- 
bassy to  the  king  of  Scotland;  he  had   a  box   full  of  silver 
vessels,  rings,  cloth  and  silk  garments. 

A.  Would  he  not  compound  with  the  sea  ? 


166  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE  GERMAN  RENAISSANCE. 

B.  No;  he  wished  either  to  perish  with  his  beloved  wealth, 
or  to  be  saved  along  with  it;  aud  so  he  refused. 

A.  What  did  the  captain  say  ? 

B.  "So  far  as  we  are  concerned,"  says  he,  "you  are  wel- 
come to  perish  with  your  traps;  but  it  is  not  right  that  we 
should  all  be  endangered  for  the  sake  of  your  box,  and  rather 
than  that  we  will  throw  you  headlong  into  the  sea,  along  with 
your  box." 

A.  A  speech  worthy  of  a  sailor. 

B.  So  the  Italian  also  made  his  contribution,  with  many  im- 
precations upon  the  powers  above  and  those  below,  that  he  had 
trusted  his  life  to  so  barbarous  an  element,     A  little  later  the 
winds,  in  no  wise  softened  by  our  offerings,  broke  the  rigging 
and  tore  the  sails  into  shreds. 

A    Alas  !  alas  ! 

B.  Again  the  sailor  approaches  us, — 

A      With  further  information  ? 

B.  He  greets  us.  "  Friends, "  says  he,  "  It  is  time  that 
everybody  should  commend  himself  to  God  and  prepare  for 
death. ' '  When  certain  ones  who  had  some  knowledge  of  the  sea 
asked  him  how  many  hours  he  thought  he  could  keep  afloat, 
he  said  he  could  not  say  for  certain,  but  that  it  would  not  be 
above  three  hours. 

A.  This  information  was  more  serious  than  the  former. 

B  With  these  words  he  ordered  all  ropes  to  be  severed  and 
the  mast  cut  with  a  saw  close  to  the  deck,  and  let  it  go  by  the 
board  together  with  the  yards. 

A.  Why  was  this  done  ? 

B.  Because,  since  the  sails  were  gone  or  torn  to  pieces,  it 
was  a  burden  rather  than  a  help.     All  our  hope  was  then  in 
the  helm. 

A.  What  were  the  passengers  doing  meanwhile  ? 

B.  There  you   might  have   seen   a  miserable  condition  of 
affairs.     The   sailors,  singing    "  Salve ,  regina, "  implored  the 
Virgin  mother,  calling  her  star  of  the  sea,  queen  of  heaven, 
ruler  of  the  world,  harbor  of  safety,  and  flattering  her  with 
many  other  titles,  which  the  holy  scriptures  nowhere  attribute 
to  her. 


DKSIDERIUS  ERASMUS.  1 67 

A.  What  has  she  to  do  with  the  sea,  who  never  sailed,  so  far 
as  I  know. 

B.  Venus  formerly  had  the  care  of  sailors,  because  she  was 
supposed  to  have  been  born  of  the  sea;  since  she  has  ceased  her 
care  of  them,  the  Virgin  mother  has  been  substituted  for  her,  in 
her  maternal,  not  in  her  virginal,  capacity. 

A.  You  are  joking. 

B.  Some  fell  down  upon  the  decks  and  worshiped  the  sea, 
pouring  into  the  waves  whatever  oil  was  at  hand,  flattering  it 
not  otherwise  than  we  used  to  flatter  an  angry  prince. 

A.  What  did  they  say  ? 

B.  "  O,  most  merciful  sea!     O,  most  noble  sea!     O,  most 
wealthy  sea  !     Have  pity,  save  us  !"     Many  things  of  this  sort 
they  sang  to  the  deaf  sea. 

A.  Absurd  superstition  ?    What  were  the  others  doing  ? 

B.  Some  were  sufficiently  occupied  with   sea-sickness;  but 
most  of  them  offered  vows.     Among  them  was  a  certain  Eng- 
lishman, who  promised  mountains  of  gold   to  our  Lady  of 
Walsingham,  if  only  he  might  touch  land  alive.     Some  prom- 
ised many  things  to  the  wood  of  the  cross,  which  was  in  such  a 
place;  others  again  to  the  same  in  another  place.     The  same 
was  done  in  the  case  of  the  Virgin  Mary,  who  reigns  in  many 
places;  and  they  think  the  vow  is  of  no  avail,  unless  you  name 
the  place. 

A.  Absurd!  as  if  the  saints  did  not  dwell  in  the  heavens. 

B.  There  were  some  who  promised  to  be  Carthusians.     One 
promised  to  go  to  James,  who  lives  at  Compostella,  with  bare 
hands  and  feet,  his  body  covered  only  with  an  iron  coat  of  mail, 
begging  his  food  besides. 

A.  Did  nobody  mention  Christopher? 

B.  I  could  scarcely  refrain  from  smiling  when  I  heard  one 
with  a  loud  voice,  lest,  he  should  not  be  heard,  promise  Christo- 
pher, who  is  in  Paris,  at  the  top  of  a  church,  a  mountain  rather 
than  a  statue,  a  wax  candle  as  big  as  he  himself.     While  he 
was  bawling  this  out  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  with  now  and  then 
an  additional  emphasis,  some  acquaintance  who  was  standing 
by  touched  him  on  the  elbow  and  advised  him,  saying,  ' '  Hav€ 
a  care  what  you  promise;  for  if  you  sell  all  your  goods  at  aue- 


168  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   GERMAN  RENAISSANCE. 

tion,  you  will  not  be  able  to  pay."  Then  says  he,  in  a  lower 
tone,  lest  Christopher  should  hear:  "Hold  your  tongue,  fool; 
do  you  think  I  am  in  earnest  ?  When  once  I  have  touched 
land,  I  will  not  give  him  a  tallow  candle." 

A.  O,  heavy  wit !     I  take  it  he  was  a  Dutchman. 

B.  No,  but  he  was  a  Zealander. 

A.  I  wonder  that  nobody  thought  of  Paul  the  Apostle.     He 
himself  sailed,  and  when  the  ship  was  wrecked,  leaped  ashore; 
for  he  learned  through  misfortune  to  succor  the  unfortunate. 

B.  There  was  no  mention  of  Paul. 

A.  Did  they  pray  meanwhile? 

B.  Earnestly.     One  sang  "Salve!  regina"  another  "Credo 
in  Deum."     Some  there  were  who  had  especial  prayers,  not 
unlike  magic  formulas,  against  danger. 

A.  How  religious  we  are  in  times  of  affliction!     In  times  of 
prosperity  neither  God  nor  saints  come  into  our  head.     What 
were  you  doing  all  this  time  ?     Did  you  offer  vows  to  none  of 
the  saints? 

B.  Not  one. 
A.  Why  not  ? 

B  Because  I  do  not  drive  bargains  with  the  saints.  For 
what  is  it  other  than  a  contract  according  to  form ?  "I  will 
give  this,  if  you  will  do  that;  I  will  give  you  a  wax  candle,  if 
I  swim  out  of  this;  I  will  go  to  Rome,  if  you  will  save  me." 

A.  But  you  sought  the  protection  of  some  saint  ? 

B.  Not  even  that. 

A.  Why  not? 

B.  Because  Heaven  is  a  large  place.     If  I  commend  myself 
to  some  saint,  St.  Peter  for  example,  who  is  most  likely  to  hear 
me  first  of  all,  since  he  stands  at  the  door;  before  he  goes  to 
God  and  explains  my  case  I  shall  be  already  lost. 

A.  What  did  you  do,  then? 

B.  I  went  immediately  to  the  Father  himself,  saying:  "  Our 
Father  who  art  in  Heaven."     None  of  the  saints  hears  sooner 
than  He,  nor  gives  more  willingly  what  is  asked. 

A.  But  in  the  meanwhile  did  not  your  conscience  cry  out 
against  you?  were  you  not  afraid  to  call  him  Father  whom  you 
have  offended  with  so  many  transgressions? 


DESIDERIUS   ERASMUS.  1 69 

B.  To  tell  the  truth,  my  conscience  did  terrify  me  a  little; 
but  presently  I  gathered  courage,  thinking  to  myself  as  follows: 
There  is  no  father  so  angry  with  his  son,  but,  if  he  sees  him  in 
danger,  in  a  river  or  lake,  would  seize  him  by  the  hair  and 
draw  him  out  upon  the  bank.  Amongst  them  all  no  one  be- 
haved more  quietly  than  a  certain  woman  who  had  a  baby  in 
her  arms,  which  she  was  nursing. 

A.  What  did  she  do  ? 

B.  She  was  the  only  one  who  did  not  cry  or  weep  or  promise. 
Embracing  her  child,  she  prayed  silently.     In  the  meantime 
the  ship  struck  now  and  then,  and  the  captain,  fearing  lest  it 
should  go  to  pieces,  bound  it  fore  and  aft  with  cables. 

A.  What  a  miserable  makeshift ! 

B.  Meanwhile  an  aged  priest,  sixty  years  old,  whose  name 
was  Adam,  comes  foreward.     Casting  off  his  clothes  even  to 
his  shirt  and  his  leather  stockings  as  well,  he  ordered  that  we 
should  prepare  ourselves  in  a  similar  manner  for  swimming; 
and  standing  thus  in  the  middle  of  the  ship  he  preached  to  us 
out  of  Gerson  the  five  truths  concerning  the  usefulness  of  con- 
fession, exhorting  us  all  to  prepare  ourselves  for  life  or  death. 
There  was  present  also  a  Dominican.     Those  who  wished  con- 
fessed to  these. 

A.  What  did  you  do  ? 

B.  Seeing  that  confusion  reigned  everywhere,  I  confessed 
silently  to  God,  condemning  before  him  my  unrighteousness 
and  imploring  his  mercy. 

A.  Whither  would  you  have  gone,  if  you  had  died  thus  ? 

B.  I  left  that  to  God  as  judge;  nor  was  I  disposed  to  be  my 
own  judge;  yet  in  the  meantime  I  was  not  without  some  hope. 
While  these  things  were  going  on,  the  sailor  returns  to  us 
weeping.     "I^et  everyone  prepare  himself,"  says  he,  "  for  the 
ship  will  not  last  us  beyond  another  quarter  of  an  hour. ' '    For 
it  was  badly  broken,  and  the  sea  was  rushing  in.     A  little  later 
the  sailor  informed  us  that  he  saw  a  church  tower,  and  advised 
us  to  pray  to  the  saint  for  aid,  whoever  might  be  the  patron  of 
that  church.     All  fall  upon  their  knees  and  pray  to  the  un- 
known saint. 

A.  If  you  had  called  him  by  name  perhaps  he  might  have 
heard  you. 


170          SOURCE  BOOK   OF  THE   GERMAN   RENAISSANCE 

B.  He  was  unknown  to  us.  Meanwhile  the  captain  steers 
the  ship,  shattered  as  it  was,  and  leaking  at  every  seam,  and 
evidently  ready  to  fall  to  pieces,  had  it  not  been  bound  with 
cables. 

A.  A  sad  condition  of  affairs. 

B.  We  came  so  far  in  shore  that  the  inhabitants  of  the  place 
saw  our  danger;  and  running  in  crowds  to  the  beach,  they 
held  up  their  coats  and  put  their  hats  upon  lances,  to  attract 
our  attention;  and  threw  their  arms  upward  toward  the  skies, 
to  signify  that  they  were  sorry  for  us. 

A.  I  am  anxious  to  know  what  happened. 

B.  The  sea  had  already  invaded  the  whole  ship,  so  that  we 
were  likely  to  be  no  safer  in  the  ship  than  in  the  sea. 

A.  Then  you  were  obliged  to  flee  to  the  holy  anchor  ? 

B.  Nay,  to  the  miserable  one      The  sailors  bail  out  the  boat 
and  lower  it  into  the  sea.     All  attempt  to  crowd  into  it,  and 
the  sailors  remonstrate  vigorously,  crying  that  the  boat  is  not 
able  to  hold  such  a  crowd;  that  each  one  should  lay  hold  of 
whatever  he  could  find  and  take  to  swimming.     There  was  no 
opportunity  for  deliberation.     One  took  an  oar,  another  a  boat- 
hook,  another  a  sink,  another  a  plank;  and  all  took  to  the 
waves,  each  one  resting  upon  his  means  of  salvation. 

A.  In  the  meantime  what  became  of  that  poor  woman,  who 
alone  did  not  cry  out? 

B.  She  came  first  of  all  to  land. 

A.  How  was  that  possible? 

B.  We  placed  her  upon  a  wide  board,  and  lashed  her  on  so 
that  she  could  not  very  well  fall  off.     We  gave  her  a  paddle  in 
her  hand,  which  she  might  use  instead  of  an  oar,  and,  wishing 
her  well,  we  set  her  adrift,  pushing  her  forward  with  a  pole,  so 
that  she  might  float  wide  of  the  ship,  from  which  there  was 
danger.     She  held  her  baby  with  her  left  hand  and  paddled 
with  her  right. 

A.  What  a  courageous  woman  ! 

B.  When  nothing  was  left,  some  one  pulled  down  a  wooden 
image  of  the  Virgin  Mother,  now  rotten  and  hollowed  out  by 
the  rats,  and  embracing  it,  began  to  swim. 

A.  Did  the  boat  arrive  safe? 


DESIDERIUS   ERASMUS.  17  r 

B,  They  were  the  first  ones  to  be  lost. 

A.  How  did  that  happen  ? 

B.  Before  it  could  get  clear  of  the  ship  it  tipped  and  was 
overturned. 

A.  How  badly  managed  !     What  then  ? 

B    While  watching  the  others  I  nearly  perished  myself. 

A.  How  so? 

B.  Because  nothing  remained  for  me  to  swim  upon. 

A.  Corks  would  have  been  of  use  there. 

B.  Just  at  this  time  I  would  rather  have  had  some  cheap  cork 
than  a  golden  candlestick.     Finally,  as  I  was  looking  about,  it 
occurred  to  me  that  the  stump  of  the  mast  would  be  of  use  to 
me;  but  as  I  could  not  get  it  out  alone,  I  got  a  companion  to 
help  me.     We  both  threw  ourselves  upon  it  and  so  committed 
ourselves  to  the  sea,  I  upon  the  right  end,  he  upon  the  left. 
While  we  were  thus  tossing  about,  that  priest,  the  sea  chap- 
lain, threw  himself  upon  the  middle,  between  our  shoulders. 
He  was  a  stout  man.     We  cried  out:  "  Who  is  this  third  man? 
He  will  cause  us  all  to  perish!"     He,  on  the  other  hand^ 
mildly  replied :  "Be  of  good  cheer ;  there  is  room  enough. 
God  will  be  with  us  ' ' 

A.  Why  did  he  take  to  swimming  so  late  ? 

B.  He  was  to  have  been  with  the  Dominican  in  the  boat,  for 
all  deferred  to  him  in  this;  but  although  they  had  confessed  to 
one  another  on  the  ship,  yet  they  had  forgotten  something,  I 
know  not  what,  and  began  confessing  again  at  the  ship's  rail, 
and  one  laid  his  hand  upon  the  other.     Meanwhile  the  boat 
was  lost;  for  Adam  himself  told  me  this. 

A.  What  became  of  the  Dominican  ? 

B.  He,  the  same  one  told  me,  implored  the  saints'  help,  put 
off  his  clothes  and  took  to  swimming  all  naked. 

A.  What  saints  did  he  invoke  ? 

B.  Dominic,  Thomas,  Vincent;  but  he  relied  most  upon  Cath- 
arine of  Sens. 

A.  Did  not  Christ  come  into  his  mind  ? 

B.  This  is  what  the  priest  told  me. 

A.  He  would  have  swum  better  had  he  not  put  off  his  holy 
cowl;  with  that  off,  how  could  Catharine  of  Sens  recognize 
him  ?  But  go  on  about  yourself. 


172  SOURCE- BOOK   OF  THE   GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

B.  While  we  were  tossing  about  near  the  ship,  which  rolled 
hither  and  thither  at  the  mercy  of  the  waves,  the  helm  broke 
the  thigh  of  him  who  held  the  left  end  of  our  float,  and  he  was 
knocked  off.  The  priest  prayed  for  his  eternal  rest,  and  suc- 
ceeded to  his  place,  urging  me  to  hold  courageously  to  my  end 
and  move  my  feet  actively.  In  the  meanwhile  we  swallowed 
a  great  deal  of  salt  water.  Neptune  had  mixed  for  us  not  only 
a  salt  bath,  but  a  salt  drink;  but  the  priest  soon  had  a  remedy 
for  that. 

A.  What,  I  pray. 

B.  As  often  as  a  wave  came  toward  us,  he  turned  the  back 
of  his  head  to  it  with  his  mouth  firmly  closed. 

A.  You  say  he  was  a  stout  old  man  ? 

B.  Swimming  thus  for  some  time  we  had  made  considerable 
progress  when  the  priest,  who  was  a  man  of  unusual  height, 
said:  "Be  of  good  cheer:  I  feel  bottom."     Not  having  dared 
to  hope  for  such  happiness,  I  replied:  "  We  are  yet  too  far  from 
shore  to  hope  to  find  bottom."     "No,"  he  said:  I  feel  the 
ground  with  my  feet."     "It    is,"  I  rejoined,  "some  of  the 
boxes,  perhaps,  which  the  sea  has  tumbled  thither."     "  No," 
said  he,  "  I  plainly  feel  the  earth  by  scratching  with  my  toes." 
We  swam  on  for  some  time  longer,  and  he  felt  bottom  again. 
' '  You  do, ' '  he  said,  ' '  what  seems  to  you  best.     I  will  give  you 
the  whole  mast  and  trust  myself  to  the  bottom,"  and  at  the  same 
time  waiting  for  the  waves  to  flow  outward,  he  went  forward 
as  rapidly  as  he  could.     When  the  waves  came  again  upon  him, 
holding  firmly  to  his  knees  with  both  hands  he  met  the  wave, 
sinking  beneath  it  as  sea-gulls  and  ducks  are  accustomed  to  do: 
and  when  the  wave  again  receded  he  sprang  up  and  ran.     See- 
ing that  this  succeeded  in  his  case,  I  did  the  same.     Then  some 
of  the  strongest  of  those  who  stood  upon  the  beach,  and  those 
most  used  to  the  waves,  fortified  themselves  against  the  force 
of  the  waves  with  long  poles  stretched  between,  so  that  the 
outermost  held  out  a  pole  to  the  swimmer;  and  when  he  had 
grasped  it,  the  whole  line  moved  shorewards  and  so  he  was 
drawn  safely  on  dry  land.     Some  were  saved  in  this  manner. 

A.  How  many  ? 

B.  Seven;  but  of  these,  two  fainted  with  the  heat,  when  set 
before  the  fire. 


DESIDERIUS   ERASMUS.  173 

A.  How  many  were  you  in  the  ship  ? 

B.  Fifty-eight. 

A.  O,  cruel  sea  !     At  least  it  might  have  been  content  with 
the  tithes,  which  suffice  for  the  priests.     Did  it  return  so  few 
out  of  so  great  a  number  ? 

B.  We  were   surprisingly  well  treated  by  the  people,  who 
furnished  us  with  all  things  with  wonderful  cheerfulness,  lodg- 
ing,   fire,    food,  clothes,    and  provisions    for  our    homeward 
journey. 

A.  What  people  were  they  ? 

B.  Dutch. 

A.  No  people  are  more  civil,  although  they  are  surrounded 
with  savage  nations.     You  will  not  go  to  sea  again,  I  take  it  ? 

B.  No,  not  unless  God  sees  fit  to  take  away  my  senses. 

A.  And  as  for  me,  I  would  rather  hear  such  tales  than  know 
them  by  experience. 

11.  Diversoria. 

A.  Why  do  so  many  people  stop  over  for  two  or  three  days 
at  Lyons?     As  for  me,  when  I  start  upon  a  journey  I  do  not 
rest  until  I  come  to  my  destination. 

B.  Indeed,  I  wonder  that  any  one  can  be  got  away  from  the 
place. 

A.  Why,  I  pray? 

B.  Because  that  is  the  place  the  companions  of  Ulysses  could 
not  have  been  drawn  away  from.     The  Sirens  are  there.     No 
one  is  treated  better  in  his  own  home  than  there  at  an  inn. 

A.  What  do  they  do  ? 

B  Some  woman  was  always  standing  near  the  table  to  divert 
the  guests  with  wit  and  fun.  First  the  woman  of  the  house 
came  to  us,  greeted  us,  and  bade  us  to  be  of  good  cheer  and 
make  the  best  of  what  was  set  before  us.  Then  came  the 
daughter,  a  fine  woman,  merry  in  manner  and  tongue,  so  that 
she  might  have  amused  Cato  himself.  Nor  do  they  talk  to 
their  guests  as  if  they  were  strangers,  but  as  if  they  were  old 
acquaintances. 

A.  Yes,  I  admit  that  the  French  people  are  very  civil. 

B.  But  since  they  could  not  be  present  all  the  time,  and  the 
business  of  the  house  had  to  be  attended  to  and  the  other 


174  SOURCE-BOOK   OP  THE   GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

guests  greeted,  a  girl  well  supplied  with  jokes  attended  us  dur- 
ing the  whole  meal.  She  was  well  able  to  repay  all-jesters  in 
their  own  coin.  She  kept  the  stories  going  until  the  daughter 
returned,  for  the  mother  was  somewhat  elderly. 

A.  But  what  sort  of  fare  had  you  with  all  this?     For  the 
stomach  is  not  filled  with  stories. 

B.  Fine  !     Indeed,  I  wonder  that  they  can  entertain  guests 
so  cheaply.     Then  too,  after  dinner  they  divert  you  with  pleas- 
ant conversation,  lest  you  should  grow  weary.     It  seemed  to 
me  I  was  at  home,  not  travelling. 

A.  How  about  the  sleeping  accommodations  ? 

B.  Eveii  there  we  were  attended  by  girls,  laughing,  romping 
and  playing;  they  asked  us  if  we  had  any  soiled  clothes,  washed 
them  for  us  and  brought  them  back.     What  more  can  I  say  ? 
We  saw  nothing  but  women  and  girls,  except  in  the  stables; 
and  even  there  they  burst  in  occasionally.     They  embrace  de- 
parting guests  and  send  them  away  with  as  much  affection  as 
if  they  were  all  brothers  or  near  relations. 

A.  Very  likely  such  manners  suit  the  French;  as  for  me,  the 
customs  of  Germany  please  me  more.     They  are  more  manly. 

B.  I  never  happened  to  visit  Germany;  so  tell  me,  I  beg  of 
you,  in  what  manner  the  Germans  entertain  a  guest. 

A.  I  am  not  certain  that  the  process  is  everywhere  the  same. 
I  will  relate  what  I  have  seen.  Upon  your  arrival  nobody 
greets  you,  lest  they  should  seem  to  court  a  guest;  for  they 
consider  that  mean  and  unworthy  of  the  German  gravity. 
When  you  have  shouted  yourself  hoarse,  finally  some  one  puts 
his  head  from  the  window  of  the  stove-room  (for  they  live  there 
up  to  the  middle  of  the  summer),  just  as  a  snail  pokes  its  head 
out  of  its  shell.  You  have  to  ask  him  if  you  may  be  enter- 
tained there.  If  he  does  not  tell  you  no,  you  understand  that 
place  will  be  made  for  you.  To  your  inquiries,  with  a  wave  of 
his  hand,  he  indicates  where  the  stables  are.  There  you  are 
permitted  to  take  care  of  your  horse  as  you  choose;  for  no  ser- 
vant lifts  a  finger.  If  the  tavern  is  a  large  one,  a  servant  will 
show  you  the  stables  and  a  rather  inconvenient  place  for  your 
horse.  They  keep  the  better  places  for  those  who  are  to  come, 
especially  for  the  nobility.  If  you  find  fault  with  anything, 


DESIDERIUS   ERASMUS.  175 

you  are  told  at  once  that  if  it  does  not  please  you,  you  are  at 
liberty  to  hunt  another  tavern.  In  the  cities  it  is  with  diffi- 
culty that  you  can  get  any  hay,  even  a  little,  and  then  they 
sell  it  almost  as  dear  as  oats.  When  your  horse  is  provided 
for,  you  go  just  as  you  are  to  the  stove-room,  boots,  baggage 
and  mud.  There  is  one  room  for  all  comers 

B.  Among  the  French  they  show  the  guests  to  sleeping- 
rooms,  where  they  may  change  their  clothes,  bathe  and  warm 
themselves,  or  even  take  a  nap,  if  they  please. 

A.  Well,  there  is  no  such  thing  here.     In  the  stove-room 
you  take  off  your  boots  and  put  on  slippers.     If  you  like,  you 
change  your  shirt ;  you  hang  your   clothes,   wet  with   rain, 
against  the  stove;  and  you  sit  by  it  yourself,  in  order  to  get 
dry.     There  is  water  at  hand  if  you  care  to  wash  your  hands, 
but  it  is  generally  so  clean  that  you  have  to  seek  more  water  to 
wash  off  that  ablution. 

B.  I  cannot  refrain  from  praising  men  who  are  so  little  soft- 
ened with  the  elegancies  of  living. 

A.  Even  if  you  arrive  the  fourth  hour  after  noon  you  cannot 
get  your  supper  before  the  ninth,  and  sometimes  the  tenth. 

B.  Why  is  that  ? 

A.  They  serve  nothing  until  they  see  all  the  guests  assem- 
bled, iu  order  that  the  same  effort  may  serve  for  all. 

B.  They  have  an  eye  to  labor  saving. 

A.  You  are  right.     And  thus  very  often  eighty  or  ninety 
persons  are  assembled  in  the  same  stove-room,  footmen,  horse- 
men,   tradesmen,    sailors,    coachmen,    farmers,   boys,  women, 
healthy  people  and  sick  people. 

B.  That  is  in  truth  a  community  of  living. 

A.  One  is  combing  his  head,  another  wiping  the  perspiration 
from  his  face,  another  cleaning  his  winter  shoes  or  boots,  an- 
other reeks  of  garlic.  What  more  could  you  desire  ?  Here  is 
no  less  confusion  of  tongues  and  of  persons  than  there  was  once 
in  the  tower  of  Babel.  But  if  ihey  see  a  foreigner,  who  shows 
some  evidence  of  distinction  in  his  dress,  they  are  all  interested 
in  him,  and  stare  at  him  as  if  he  were  some  animal  from  Africa. 
Even  after  they  are  at  the  table  they  turn  their  heads  to  get  a 
look,  and  neglect  their  meals  rather  than  lose  sight  of  him. 


176  SOURCE-BOOK  OP  THE  GERMAN  RENAISSANCE. 

B.  At  Rome,  Paris  and  Venice  no  one  wonders  at  anything. 

A.  Meanwhile  you  may  not  call  for  anything.     When  the 
evening  is  far  advanced  and  no  more  guests  are  expected,  an 
old  servant  appears,  with  gray  beard,  cropped  head,  a  savage 
look  and  shabby  clothes. 

B.  It  was  necessary  that  such  should  be  cup-bearers  to  the 
Roman  Cardinals. 

A.  He  casts  his  eye  about  and  silently  reckons  how  many 
there  are  in  the  stove-room.     The  more  there  are  present  the 
more  violently  the  stove  is  heated,  although  the  weather  may 
be  uncomfortably  warm  outside.     This  is  the  certain  indication 
of  hospitality,  that  everybody  should  be  dripping  with  sweat. 
If  anyo  ^e  who  is  not  used  to  this  steaming,  should  open  a 
chink  of  a  window,  lest  he  be  stifled,  immediately  he  hears: 
"Shut  it!1'     If  you  reply:  "I  cannot  bear  it!"  you  hear: 
"Then  look  out  for  another  tavern  !" 

B.  It  seems  to  me  there  is  nothing  more  dangerous  than  for 
so  many  persons  to  breathe  the  same  air,  especially  when  the 
pores  are  open,  and  then  dine  and  stay  there  several  hours. 
Not  to  speak  of  the  odor  of  garlic  and  bad  breaths.     There  are 
many,  too,  who  are  affected  with  secret  diseases,  and  every 
distemper  is  to  a  certain  degree  infectious.     Certainly  many 
have  the  Spanish,  or  as  some  call  it,  the  French  evil,  although 
it  is  common  enough  to  all  nations.     I  think  there  is  not  much 
less  danger  from  these  than  from  lepers.     Just  think,  too,  how 
great  danger  there  is  from  the  plague! 

A.  Oh,  they  are  sturdy  fellows.  They  laugh  at  these  things. 

B.  But  at  the  same  time  they  are  brave  at  the  expense  of 
many. 

A.  Well,  what  can  you  do  about  it  ?    They  are  accustomed 
to  it,  and  it  is  a  sign  of  a  constant  mind  not  to  depart  from  es- 
tablished customs. 

B.  Twenty-five  years  ago  nothing  was  more  common  among 
the  people  of  Brabant  than  public  baths;  now  there  is  hardly 
one  to  be  found,  for  the  new  ailment  has  taught  us  to  avoid 
them. 

A.  But  listen  to  the  rest.     The  bearded  Ganymede  returns 
and  spreads  with  linen  cloths  as  many  tables  as  he  considers 


ERASMUS. 

necessary  for  the  number  of  guests.  But  heavens  and  earth  ! 
how  far  from  fine  are  the  cloths.  You  would  say  they  were 
sail-cloths  taken  down  from  the  yard  arms  of  a  ship.  He  has 
reckoned  on  eight  guests  to  each  table.  Those  who  know  the 
custom  of  the  country  now  sit  down,  each  one  where  he  pleases; 
for  no  distinction  is  made  between  a  poor  man  and  a  rich  man, 
between  a  master  and  a  servant. 

B.  That  is  the  old  equality  which  tyranny  has  driven  out  of 
existence.  Thus,  I  believe,  Christ  lived  with  his  disciples. 

A.  Well,  after  all  are  seated,  the  grim  Ganj'mede  comes  out 
and  counts  over  his  company  once  more.     By  and  by  he  re> 
turns  and  sets  before  each  guest  a  wooden  dish  and  a  spoon  of 
the  same  kind  of  silver;  then  a  glass  and  a  little  piece  of  bread. 
Each  one  polishes  up  his  utensils  in  a  leisurely  way,  while  the 
porridge  is  cooking.     And  thus  they  sit  not  uncommonly  for*" 
upwards  of  an  hour. 

B.  Does  no  guest  call  for  food  in  the  meantime? 

A.  No  one  who  is  acquainted  with  the  temper  of  the  country. 
At  length  wine  is  served — good  L,ord,  how  far  from  being  taste- 
less !  Those  who  water  their  wine  ought  to  drink  no  other 
kind,  it  is  so  thin  and  sharp.  But  if  any  guest  seeks  to  obtain 
some  other  kind  of  wine,  offering  to  pay  extra  for  it,  at  first 
they  dissemble,  but  with  an  expression  as  if  they  wished  to 
murder  you.  If  you  insist  upon  it  they  answer  that  a  great 
many  counts  and  margraves  have  lodged  there  and  none  of 
them  has  complained  of  the  quality  of  the  wine;  if  it  does  not 
suit  you,  why  then,  look  out  for  another  tavern,  .for  they  look 
upon  their  noblemen  as  the  only  men  of  importance,  and  ex- 
hibit their  coats  of  arms  everywhere.  Already,  then,  the 
guests  have  a  crust  to  throw  to  their  barking  stomachs.  By 
and  by  the  dishes  come  on  in  great  array.  The  first  usually 
consists  of  pieces  of  bread  soaked  in  meat-broth,  or,  if  it  be  fish- 
day,  in  a  broth  of  herbs.  After  this  comes  another  kind  of 
broth,  then  some  kind  of  warmed-up  meat  or  salt  fish.  Again 
the  porridge  is  brought  on,  then  some  more  substantial  food, 
until,  when  the  stomach  is  well  tamed,  they  serve  up  roast 
meat  or  boiled  fish,  which  is  not  to  be  despised.  But  here 
they  are  sparing,  and  take  the  dishes  away  quickly.  In  this 


178  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

way  they  diversify  the  entertainment,  like  play-actors  who  mix 
choruses  with  their  scenes,  taking  care  that  the  last  act  shall 
be  the  best. 

B.  This  is  indeed  the  mark  of  a  good  poet. 

A.  Moreover,  it  would  be  an  unpardonable  offense  if  anybody 
in  the  meantime  should  say:  "Take  away  this  dish;  nobody 
cares  for  it."     You  must  sit  there  through  the  prescribed  time, 
which  they  measure,  I  suppose,  with  an  hour-glass.     At  last, 
the  bearded  fellow,  or  the  inn-keeper  himself,  who  differs  very 
little  from  the  servants  in  his  dress,  comes  in  and  asks  if  there 
is  anything  wanted.     By  and  by  some  better  wine  is  brought 
on.     They  admire  most  him  who  drinks  most;  but  although 
he  is  the  greater  consumer  he  pays  no  more  than  he  who  drinks 
least. 

B.  A  curious  people,  indeed! 

A.  The  result  is  that  sometimes  there  are  those  who  consume 
twice  the  value  in  wine  of  what  they  pay  for  the  whole  meal. 
But  before  I  end  my  account  of  this  entertainment,  it  is  won- 
derful what  a  noise  and  confusion  of  voices  arises,  when  all  have 
begun  to  grow  warm  with  drink.  It  is  unnecessary  to  say  that 
the  riot  is  universal.  So-called  jesters  thrust  themselves  in 
everywhere,  and  although  there  is  no  kind  of  human  beings 
more  despicable,  yet  you  would  scarcely  believe  how  the  Ger- 

.mans  are  pleased  with  them.  They  sing  and  prate,  shout,  dance 
and  thump,  so  that  the  stove  seems  ready  to  fall.  No  one  can 

'<hear  another  speak.     But  it  seems  to  please  them,  and  you  are 

.obliged  to  sit  there,  whether  you  will  or  not,  until  late  into  the 

.night. 

A.  Now,  do  finally  finish  the  entertainment;  for  I  too  am 
•worn  out  with  the  length  of  it. 

B.  Very  well.     When  at  last  the  cheese,  which  hardly  pleases 
<them  unless  rotten  and  full  of  worms,  has  been  taken  away,  the 

bearded  fellow  conies  forth,  bearing  a  trencher  in  which  are 
drawn  with  chalk  some  circles  and  semi-circles,  and  lays  it  upon 
the  table,  so  silent,  meanwhile,  and  sad,  that  you  would  say  he 
was  some  Charon.  Then  they  who  comprehend  the  design  lay 
down  their  money,  then  another  and  still  another,  until  the 
^trencher  is  filled.  Then  having  observed  who  has  contributed, 


DESIDERIUS   ERASMUS.  179 

he  reckons  it  up  silently;  and  if  nothing  is  wanting  he  nods 
with  his  head. 

B.     What  if  there  should  be  something  over? 

A.  Perhaps  he  would  return  it.     As  a  matter  of  fact,  this 
sometimes  happens. 

B.  Does  nobody  ever  cry  out  against  the  reckoning  as  unjust  ? 

A.  Nobody  who  is  prudent.     For  he  would  hear  at  once : 
"  What  sort  of  a  fellow  are  you  ?    You  are  paying  no  more  than 
the  others!" 

B.  This  is  certainly  a  frank  kind  of  people  you  are  telling 
about. 

A.  And  if  anybody,  weary  with  his  journey,  asks   to  go  to 
bed  soon  after  supper,  he  is  ordered  to  wait  until  the  rest  also 
go  to  bed. 

B.  I  seem  to  see  a  Platonic  city. 

A.  Then  each  is  shown  to  his  rest,  and  it  is  truly  nothing 
more  than  a  bed-chamber  ;  for  there  is  nothing  there  but  a  bed, 
and  nothing  else  that  you  can  use  or  steal. 

B.  Is  there  cleanliness  ? 

A.  Just  as  at  dinner  ;  linen  washed  six  months  ago,  perhaps. 

B.  In  the  mean  time  what  had  become  of  the  horses  ? 

A.  They  were  treated  according  to  the  same  method  as  the 
men. 

B.  But  do  you  get  the  same  accommodations  everywhere  ? 

A.  Sometimes  more  courteous,  sometimes  harsher  than  I 
have  told  you  ;  but  on  the  whole  it  is  as  I  have  said. 

B.  How  would  you  like  me  to  tell  you  how  guests  are  treated 
in  that  part  of  Italy  which  is  called  L,ombardy,  or  in  Spain,  or 
in  England  and  in  Wales  ?     For  the  English  have  assimilated 
in  part  the  French  and  in  part  the  German  customs,  being  a 
mixture  of  these  two  nations.     The  Welsh  boast  that  they  are 
the  original  English. 

A.  I  should  like  you  to  tell  me,  for  I  never  had  occasion  to 
see  them. 

B.  At  present  I  have  not  time,  for  the  sailor  told  me  to 
meet  him  at  the  third  hour,  or  I  should  be  left  behind ,  and  he 
has  my  baggage.     Some  other  time  we  shall  have  an  oppor- 
tunity of  chatting  to  our  heart's  content. 


180          SOURCE-BOOK  OF  THE  GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

ULRICH  VON  HUTTEN. 

Ulrich  von  Hutten  (1488  1523)  was  born  in  the  Castle  of  Steckelberg, 
in  Franconia,  of  the  knightly  class,  and  was  destined,  on  account  of  his 
slight  stature  and  delicate  health,  for  the  church.  He  broke  through 
the  parental  plans,  however,  and  gave  himself  to  a  life  of  literary  effort. 
Von  Hutten's  career  was  full  of  adventure  and  disorder,  and  lacked  pur- 
pose, until  his  association  with  ithe  Reformers  turned  his  ardent  ener- 
gies into  a  distinct  channel.  With  all  the  impetuosity  of  his  race  he  took 
up  the  cudgels  against  the  papacy.  Although  co-operating  with  Luther, 
von  Hutten's  interests  were  never  doctrinal,  but  economic  and  political. 
He  looked  forward  to  a  united  Germany,  in  which  the  emperor,  with  the 
free  knights  at  his  back,  should  sweep  away  the  territorial  barriers  to  his 
power,  and  rid  the  land  of  the  Italian  yoke  as  well.  Although  he  contri- 
buted much  to  the  advancement  of  the  Lutheran  movement  in  its  early 
and  critical  stage,  yet  it  was  well  for  him  and  for  the  Reformers  that  he 
passed  away  before  the  movement  came  to  be  defined.  He  would  have 
had  little  sympathy  with  its  doctrinal  tendencies,  or  with  that  alliance 
with  the  decentralizing  forces  in  the  empire,  which  alone  assured  its 
success. 

INSPICIENTES.* 

(Sol,  traversing  the  heavens  in  company  with  Phaeton,  his  son,  halting 
finished  the  uphill  journey,  employs  his  leisure  in  discussing  with  his 
young  companion  the  manners  and  customs  of  the  Germans,  over  whose 
land  his  chariot  is  now  passing.  Beneath  him  is  Augsburg,  where  the 
diet  of  1518  has  just  been  assembled,  whither  Caietano,  legate  of  Pope 
Leo  X. ,  has  been  sent  for  the  purpose  of  adjusting  a  trifling  controversy 
which  has  lately  broken  out  at  Wittenberg.  The  habitual,  drunkenness 
of  the  Germans  has  just  been  mentioned  with  regret}. 

Sol.  This  fault  is  inborn  with  them,  as  deceit  with  the  Ital- 
ians, thievery  with  the  Spaniards,  pride  with  the  French,  and 
other  vices  with  other  peoples. 

Phaeton.  If  indeed  they  must  have  a  fault,  I  should  rather 
they  would  have  this  one  than  those  you  have  just  mentioned. 
I  hope,  however,  that  time,  which  mends  all  human  faults,  will 
remove  this  as  well.  But  let  us  turn  our  attention  again  to  the 
Reichstag  and  the  Pope's  legate,  for  he  (just  look,  father!)  is 
moved  to  anger  and  heated  with  rage.  Now  he  is  shouting 

*  (  The  On-lookers.}  Ulrichi  Hutteni  equitis  Germani  opera.  Ed.  E. 
Bocking,  Vol.  IV.  Lips.  1860. 


ULRICH   VON  HUTTBN.  l8l 

out  something  to  us  from  his  place  in  the  procession;  and  I 
really  believe  that  he  is  angry  at  us;  for  he  is  looking  this  way. 

Sol.  Yes,  he  is  enraged  at  me.  Listen,  then,  to  what  the 
little  fellow  says,  as  with  wrinkled  brow  and  haughty  air  he 
threatens  me. 

Caietan.  Here,  you  !  At  my  merest  suggestion,  not  to  speak 
of  my  command,  you  ought  to  shine  clearer  and  brighter  than 
you  have  been  doing! 

Sol.  What's  that  you  say,  legate  ?  What's  that  you  say  ?  Is 
this  the  way  you  talk  to  me  ? 

Caietan.  To  you!  As  though  you  did  not  know  you  were 
guilty  of  a  great  crime! 

Sol.  In  truth  I  do  not.  Tell  me  then,  what  evil  thing  have 
I  done? 

Caietan.  I'll  tell  you  then.  So  you  are  coming  out  a  little, 
you  rascal?  You  are  shedding  your  rays  upon  the  world? 
You  who  ought,  upon  my  slightest  hint  (let  alone  my  com- 
mand) to  shine  clearer  and  brighter  than  you  do- 

Sol.  I  don't  see  yet,  what  evil  I  have  done. 

Caietan.  You  don't  see?  You  who  for  ten  whole  days  have 
shed  no  beam  of  your  brightness;  you  who  have  obstinately 
wrapped  yourself  in  clouds,  as  though  you  begrudged  the 
world  your  light. 

Sol.  That  is  the  fault  of  the  astrologers  and  star-gazers,  if  it 
is  anybody's  fault,  for  they  with  their  prognostications  have 
arranged  that  I  should  not  shine  during  this  time. 

Caietan.  But  you  should  have  considered  what  would  be 
agreeable  to  a  legate  of  the  pope  rather  than  what  would  please 
the  star-gazers.  Don't  you  know  what  I  promised  you,  when 
I  left  Italy,  if  you  did  not  warm  up  the  German  lands,  which 
.are  so  unseasonably  cold,  and  make  them  quite  summer-like 
for  me,  so  that  I  should  have  no  need  to  wish  myself  back  in 
Italy  ? 

Sol.  I  paid  no  attention  to  your  orders;  for  it  has  never  been 
my  opinion  that  mortal  man  could  command  the  sun. 

Caietan.  It  hasn't  been  your  opinion?  Perhaps  you  are  not 
aware  that  a  Roman  bishop  (who  has  in  this  instance  endowed 
me  with  all  his  powers)  has  the  power  to  bind  and  loose 
whate'er  he  will,  in  heaven  and  on  earth? 


1 82  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE  GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

Sol.  I  have  heard  of  it,  but  I  did  not  believe  that  what  he 
claimed  was  true,  for  I  have  never  known  a  mortal  man  to 
change  anything  up  here. 

Caietan.  What?  You  do  not  believe  it?  Perverted  Chris- 
tian that  you  are,  they  ought  to  put  you  under  the  ban  and 
hand  you  over  to  the  devil  for  a  heretic. 

Sol.  Would  you  cast  me  out  of  heaven  and  give  me  over  to 
the  devil,  and,  so  to  speak,  blot  the  sun  out  of  the  skies? 

Caietan.  Indeed  I  will  do  it,  if  you  do  not  quickly  confess  to 
one  of  my  secretaries  and  seek  absolution  from  me. 

Sol.  When  I  have  confessed,  what  will  you  do  with  me  then  ? 

Caietan.  I  shall  lay  a  penalty  upon  you,  that  you  may 
hunger  with  fastings,  or  perform  some  difficult  task,  or  tire 
yourself  with  pilgrimages,  or  give  alms,  or  contribute  some- 
thing toward  the  Turkish  war,  or  give  money  for  an  indul- 
gence, wherewith  the  cathedral  of  St.  Peter,  which  now  is 
fallen  into  ruins  at  Rome,  may  be  rebuilt;  or  if  you  wish  to 
save  your  money,  that  you  be  scourged  with  rods  for  your  sins. 

Sol.  That  is  rather  severe.  What  will  you  do  with  me  after 
that? 

Caietan.  Then  I  will  absolve  you  and  make  you  clean. 

Sol.  Thus,  as  the  proverb  runs,  you  will  brighten  up  the 
sun? 

Caietan.  Yes,  I  will  do  that,  if  it  please  me,  by  virtue  of  the 
powers  which  the  tenth  Leo  has  conferred  upon  me. 

Sol.  What  trickery  do  I  hear!  Do  you  mean  to  say,  that 
any  one,  even  amongst  mortals,  is  silly  enough  to  believe  you 
have  this  power?  Not  to  speak  of  the  sun,  that  has  oversight 
upon  all.  You  had  better  go  and  take  a  dose  of  hellebore;  for 
it  seems  to  me  you  are  losing  your  mind. 

Caietan.  "Losing  my  mind!"  You  are  de  facto  under  the 
ban  ;  for  you  have  spoken  disrespectfully  to  the  Pope's  legate, 
whereby  you  have  fallen  into  great  and  intolerable  damnation. 
Therefore  will  I  shortly  proclaim  you  publicly  and  with  all  the 
pomp  of  a  great  assembly  under  the  ban,  because  you  have 
angered  me. 

Phaeton.  Father,  I  should  scorn  this  arrogance.  What  may 
a  wretched  mortal  do  against  immortal  creatures  ? 


ULRICH  VON   HUTTEN.  183 

Sol.  I>t  us  rather  treat  him  with  contempt.  He  is  indeed 
to  be  pitied,  for  he  has  gone  mad  through  illness. 

Phaeton,  What  sort  of  illness  ? 

Sol.  He  is  sick  with  greed.  Since  the  matter  which  he  has 
in  hand  in  Germany  will  not  come  his  way,  he  has  fallen  into 
a  rage  and  lost  his  mind  in  consequence.  But  I  am  disposed 
to  chaff  him  further.  What  say  you,  holy  father  ?  Would  you 
condemn  me  unheard  and  guiltless  ? 

Phaeton.  Just  as  I  have  said.  It  is  not  customary  to  permit 
all  those  to  have  a  hearing,  who  have  been  condemned  by  the 
Pope  and  his  legates. 

Sol.  That  would  be  wrong,  however,  if  anybody  but  you 
should  do  it.  But  be  gracious,  I  beseech  you,  and  forgive  me 
my  sins  just  this  once. 

Caieian.  Now  you  are  talking  properly;  for  whoever  will  not 
be  damned,  must  sue  for  grace.  Wherefore  I  command  you, 
to  look  out  for  me,  wherever  I  may  be  ;  and  now,  so  long  as  I 
remain  in  Germany,  to  make  good  weather,  and  by  virtue  of 
your  heat  to  banish  that  cold  which  tortures  me  yet  even  in  the 
month  of  July. 

Sol.  Why  don't  you  put  the  cold  under  the  ban  ? 

Caietan.  That  is  worth  thinking  of ;  but  you  attend  to  that 
which  I  command. 

Sol.  I  should  have  done  this  before,  but  I  thought  that  you 
were  engaged  in  some  secret  undertaking  which  you  did  not 
wish  these  ordinary  German  people  to  see.  Wherefore  I  feared 
that  if  I  should  shine  brightly,  and  display  these  secrets  of  yours 
to  the  eyes  of  the  people,  your  affairs  might  miscarry. 

Caietan.  How  could  you  show  my  secret  affairs  to  others, 
when  you  do  not  know  them  yourself  ? 

Sol.  I  don't  know  them?  Do  you  think  I  don't  know  that 
your  present  wish  is  to  prevent  Charles  from  being  chosen 
Roman  King  in  accordance  with  the  desires  of  his  subjects? 
That  you  have  many  other  things  under  way,  in  which,  if  the 
Germans  knew,  they  would  no  longer  assist  you,  but  would 
hate  you  with  a  deadly  hatred. 

Caietan.  I^et  them  hate  me,  for  they  must  fear  me  too.  I 
have  indeed  not  wished  to  have  you  disclose  such  things. 
Moreover,  if  you  do  it,  you  are  under  the  ban. 


1 84          SOURCE-BOOK  OF  THE  GERMAN  RENAISSANCE. 

Sol.  What  a  tyrant  you  are,  to  be  sure. 

Caietan.  Furthermore,  I  command  you  that  you  shall  direct 
your  arrow  and  shoot  pestilence  and  sudden  death  amongst 
.the  Germans,  in  order  that  many  benefices  and  spiritual  fiefs 
-.may  become  vacant,  that  pensions  may  accrue  and  money  flow 
to  Rome,  and  something  of  all  this  shall  be  mine.  For  it  is 
now  a  long  time  since  clerics  have  been  dying  frequently 
enough  in  Germany.  Do  you  hear  what  I  tell  you  ? 

Sol.  Perfectly. 

Caietan.  But  first  of  all  shoot  at  the  bishops,  that  the  pallia 
may  be  bought.  Then  hit  the  provosts  and  the  wealthy  pre- 
lates, in  order  that  the  Pope's  new  creatures  may  have  where- 
'with  to  live  ;  for  they  must  be  considered  each  according  to  his 
jrank,  in  order  that  they  may  want  nothing. 

Sol.  In  order  that  I  may  bring  about  a  pestilence  it  will  be 
necessary  to  bring  on  clouds,  to  drop  a  mist  upon  the  earth  and 
darken  the  atmosphere  ;  wherefore  I  fear  that  this  bad  weather 
will  displease  you. 

Caietan.  Well,  I  prefer  that  the  pestilence  should  take  place, 
so  that  the  benefices  may  be  vacant.  So  far  as  the  atmosphere 
is  concerned,  darken  it  as  little  as  you  may  ;  but  if  you  cannot 
avoid  it,  do  what  is  best  and  most  useful. 

Phaeton.  O  miserable  rascal !  Now  for  the  first  time  I  per- 
-ceive  where  the  shoe  pinches,  what  pleases  and  displeases  him, 
"what  makes  him  sad,  what  joyful !  I,et  the  stream  flow  to  his 
-desire,  and  he  can  endure  all  kinds  of  air,  cold  and  bad  weather. 
I  will  address  him.  I/isten,  wretched  man.  A  shepherd  should 
pasture  his  sheep,  not  murder  them. 

Caietan.  What  say  you,  church-thief?  What  say  you, 
wicked  driver?  You,  whom  I  shall  crush  and  crunch  in  a 
moment  with  my  curse.  Will  you  seek  to  hinder  my  affairs  ! 

Phaeton.  Indeed,  I  certainly  shall,  if  I  am  able.  For  why 
do  you  seek  to  kill  those  from  whom  you  are  forcing  money  in 
every  way  without  this  means  ? 

Caietan.  You  accursed  one,  you  malefactor,  you  condemned, 
a  son  of  Satan,  how  dare  you  yelp  against  me?  Is  it  wrong 
that  a  shepherd  should  shear  his  sheep  ? 

Phaeton.  That  he  should  shear  them  is  not  wrong;  for  the 


LETTERS  OF  OBSCURE  MEN.  185 

good  shepherds  do  that  as  well ;  but  they  do  not  kill  and  flay 
them.  Tell  that  to  your  Pope  Leo,  and  say  to  him  as  well, 
that  if  he  does  not  send  henceforth  more  temperate  legates  into 
Germany,  he  will  some  day  see  a  conspiracy  of  the  sheep 
against  an  unjust,  harsh  and  blood-thirsty  shepherd,  and  they 
will  perhaps  do  a  deed  that  is  both  right  and  merited.  Already 
indeed  they  sing  and  talk  about  you,  and  it  is  my  opinion  that 
they  will  no  longer  tolerate  you,  not  even  if  you  should  send 
wagons  full  of  excommunications  against  them  across  the 
mountains. 

Caietan.  You  are  letting  out  a  thing  that  should  not  be  talked 
about.  Wherefore  be  you  excommunicated!  I  lay  this  pun- 
ishment upon  you  for  the  discourteous,  thoughtless  talk  which 
you  have  addressed  to  me. 

Phaeton.  Then  I  leave  you,  an  object  of  derision  to  the  Ger- 
mans, whom  you  are  in  the  habit  of  plundering;  and  may  they 
drive  you  hence  with  ridicule  and  abuse,  even  handle  you 
roughly,  and  so  use  you,  that  you  may  be  an  example  to  pos- 
terity. Scorn  be  upon  you!  Thus  I  punish  you. 

Sol.  Cease  with  your  scurrility;  it  is  time  to  guide  our  car 
down  the  slope  and  make  way  for  the  evening  star.  Let  him 
lie,  cheat,  steal,  rob  and  plunder  at  his  own  risk. 

Phaeton.  The  devil  fly  away  with  him!     Come,  then,  I  will 
prick  up  the  steeds  and  get  us  hence. 
Jacta  est  alea. 

LETTERS  OF  OBSCURE  MEN.. 

Johannes  Pfefferkorn,  a  converted  Jew  of  Cologne,  desiring  to  give  evi- 
dence of  his  zeal  for  the  Christian  faith,  secured  from  the  emperor  Maxi- 
milian I.  an  order  which  called  for  the  suppression  and  destruction  of  all 
rabbinical  writings,  as  hostile  to  Christianity.  It  was  the  belief  of  Ger- 
man humanists  that  Pfefferkorn  was  nothing  more  than  the  instrument 
of  the  Dominicans  at  Cologne,  who  sought  in  this  manner  to  counteract 
the  growing  interest  in  the  study  of  Hebrew.  The  archbishop  of  Mainz 
suspended  the  execution  of  the  order  until  the  matter  could  be  more 
thoroughly  investigated.  Opinions  regarding  the  value  of  the  Hebrew 
writings  were  requested  from  several  universities,  from  Jacob  von  Hoch- 
straten,  papal  inquisitor  of  Cologne  and  from  Johann  Reuchlin.  Of 

*Epistolae  obscurorum  virorum  Ed.  Bucking,  Leipzig,  1864,  pasfim< 


1 86  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE  GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

these,  Reuchlin  alone  went  deeply  into  the  subject.  His  report 
favorable  to  the  Hebrew  writings  as  a  whole,  excepting  certain  ones 
which  dealt  in  witchcraft  or  were  abusive  of  Christian  doctrine.  These 
he  considered  worthy  of  extinction.  In  general,  however,  he  was  un- 
favorable to  this  method  of  combatting  error,  and  suggested  the  founda- 
tion in  each  university  of  a  chair  of  Hebrew,  for  the  better  understanding 
of  these  works.  Other  opinions  were  unfavorable,  and  thus  Reuchlin 
stood  alone  as  the  champion  of  Hebrew  lore  and  the  defender,  in  thi» 
particular,  of  the  claims  of  humanism. 

Pfefferkorn  continued  to  be  the  instrument  of  the  Cologne  party.  His 
Handspiegel,  which  he  sold,  with  his  wife's  help,  at  the  great  Frankfort 
fair  of  1511,  was  a  violent  attack  upon  Reuchlin,  who  replied  in  the 
Augenspiegel,  which  in  turn  elicited  a  Brandspeigel  from  his  detractor. 
The  controversy  was  seasoned  on  both  sides  with  the  violent  abuse  of  the 
time.  The  faculty  of  Cologne  condemned  the  Augenspiegz.1  as  heretical 
in  1513.  The  University  of  Paris  followed  in  1514.  Reuchlin  was  cited 
before  the  tribunal  of  the  inquisition,  and  although  his  case  was  trans- 
ferred to  the  curia,  his  book  was  publicly  burned.  A  commission  ap- 
pointed by  Leo  X.  sat  at  Speir  and  declared  Reuchlin  free  of  heresy, 
adjudging  the  costs  to  Hochstraten,  whereupon  the  inquisitor  proceeded 
to  Rome,  well  supplied  with  funds,  and  secured  a  reversal  of  the  decis- 
sion.  A  protest  of  Reuchlin  suspended  execution,  and  the  matter  drifted 
on  in  the  curia  without  result. 

But  the  case,  if  silenced  in  the  ecclesiastical  courts,  was  taken  up  before 
the  bar  of  public  opinion.  Reuchlin,  feeling  the  need  of  public  rehabili- 
tation, published  in  1514  a  book  containing  a  selection  of  letters  of  sym- 
pathy addressed  to  him  by  men  of  note  in  the  world  of  humanism.  This 
was  the  Clarorum  virorum  epistolae  etc.  The  title  proved  a  source  of  in- 
spiration for  certain  waggish  scholars,  humanists,  and  partisans  of 
Reuchlin,  whose  identity  evenat  this  time  is  imperfectly  known.  In  1515 
appeared  at  Hegenau  the  first  series  of  letters,  known  as  the  Epistolae 
virorum  obscurorunt.  The  letters  are  addressed  for  the  most  part  to 
Ortuin  Gratius,  a  distinguished  member  of  the  faculty  of  Cologne,  a  man 
of  high  attainments  and  of  ability  as  an  author.  The  writers  of  the  let- 
ters are  supposed  to  be  clergymen,  at  Rome  and  elsewhere,  who  seek  or 
desire  to  impart  in  formation  regarding  the  Reuchlin  affair,  or  who  appeal 
to  Gratius  to  settle  some  point  of  dispute.  The  general  effort  of  the  let- 
ters is  to  expose  the  ignorance  and  baseness  of  the  clergy  and  to  throw 
ridicule  upon  the  rank  and  file  of  the  Cologne  party.  It  is  a  part  of  the 
internal  protest  against  the  bigotry  and  shortcomings  of  the  clergy,  a 
protest  that  became  schismatic  only  under  the  lead  of  Luther.  The 
letters  are  supposed  to  be  the  work  of  half  a  dozen  men  ;  bnt  among  them 
the  most  prominent  are  Crotus  Rubeanus  (1480-1540)  and  Ulrich  von 
Hutten. 


LETTERS  OF  OBSCURE  MEN.  187 

MASTER  JOHANNKS  PEUJKEX  PRESENTS  HIS  GREETING  TO  MASTER 
ORTUIN   GRATIUS. 

Friendly  greeting  and  endless  service,  most  worthy  Master  I. 
Since,  as  Aristotle  says  in  the  Categories,  it  is  not  wholly  use- 
less in  certain  cases  to  give  way  to  doubt,  I  will  confess  that  a 
certain  thing  is  lying  heavily  on  my  conscience.  Not  long  ago 
I  was  at  Frankfort  fair,  and,  while  walking  along  the  street  to- 
ward the  market  with  a  bachelor,  we  met  two  men  who,  to  all 
appearances,  were  quite  respectable  ;  they  wore  black  cloaks  and 
great  hoods  with  tassels  hanging  down  behind.  God  is  my 
witness  that  I  believed  they  were  two  masters,  and  I  greeted 
them,  therefore,  with  reverence.  Then  the  bachelor  slapped 
me  on  the  back  and  said  :  "  For  the  love  of  God,  what  are  you 
doing?  They  are  Jews,  and  you  have  taken  off  your  hat  to 
them  !  "  At  this  such  a  fright  seized  me  as  if  I  had  seen  the 
devil,  and  I  answered:  "Sir  Baccalaureus,  God  have  mercy 
upon  me.  I  have  done  it  in  ignorance  ;  so  what  do  you  think; 
is  that  a  grievous  sin  ?"  Then  at  first  he  said  :  "According  to 
my  view  it  is  a  mortal  sin,  since  it  comes  under  the  head  of 
idolatry,  and  therefore  violates  the  first  of  the  ten  command- 
ments, which  says,  '  I  believe  in  one  God  ;'  because,  if  any  one 
honors  a  Jew  or  a  heathen  as  if  he  were  a  Christian,  he  acts 
against  Christendom,  and  puts  himself  in  the  position  of  a  Jew 
or  heathen,  and  then  the  Jews  and  heathen  say  :  '  See  how  we 
are  progressing,  since  the  Christians  honor  us  ;  for  if  we  were 
not  progressing,  surely  they  would  not  honor  us  ;  and  in  this 
way  they  are  strengthened  in  their  evil  ways,  despise  the 
Christian  faith  and  refuse  baptism."  Upon  this  I  answered  : 
"  That  is  very  true,  if  the  thing  be  done  knowingly,  but  I  have 
done  it  unknowingly,  and  ignorance  excuses  sin  ;  for  had  I 
known  that  they  were  Jews,  and  then  had  shown  them  respect, 
then  I  should  have  deserved  the  gallows,  because  that  would  be 
a  heresy.  But  neither  by  word  nor  deed — God  knows — had  I 
any  knowledge  whatsoever,  for  I  believed  they  were  two  mas- 
ters." Then  he  answered:  It  is  nevertheless  a  sin,"  and  re- 
lated the  following:  "  I  too  went  once  through  a  church,  where  a 
Jew,  made  of  wood,  with  a  hammer  in  his  hand,  stood  before 


1 88  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   GERMAN  RENAISSANCE. 

our  Saviour.  I  believed,  however,  that  it  was  St  Peter,  and 
that  he  had  the  key  in  his  hand  ;  so  I  bent  ray  knee  and  took 
off  my  cap.  Then  for  the  first  time  I  saw  that  it  was  a  Jew, 
and  this  made  me  very  sad  and  repentant.  But  at  confession, 
which  I  made  in  the  Dominican  convent,  my  father  confessor 
told  me  that  it  was  a  mortal  sin,  since  you  must  be  on  your 
guard.  He  would  not  have  been  able  to  give  me  absolution  if 
he  had  not  had  episcopal  powers,  for  it  was  a  case  reserved  to 
the  bishop  ;  he  also  added  that  if  I  had  done  it  intentionally,  it 
would  have  been  a  case  for  the  pope.  So  I  was  absolved  be- 
cause he  had  episcopal  powers.  And,  really,  I  believe  that  if 
you  would  keep  your  conscience  clear,  you  must  confess  to  the 
officer  of  the  consistory.  Ignorance  cannot  excuse  your  sin, 
for  you  should  have  taken  care.  The  Jews  have  always  a  yel- 
low ring  on  the  front  of  their  cloaks,  which  you  certainly  ought 
to  have  seen,  for  I  saw  it ;  so  it  is  gross  ignorance  on  your  part, 
and  cannot  effect  forgiveness  of  sins."  Thus  reasoned  in  my 
case  this  bachelor.  But,  since  you  are  a  deeply-read  theologian, 
I  want  to  ask  you  earnestly  and  humbly  that  you  will  solve  the 
above  question  for  me,  and  write  me  whether  it  is  a  question 
here  of  a  mortal  or  venial  sin  ;  whether  it  is  a  simple  case,  or 
an  episcopal,  or  a  papal  reserved  case.  Also  write  me  whether, 
according  to  your  view,  the  citizens  of  Frankfort  do  right  that 
they  permit,  in  this  wise,  Jews  to  go  about  in  the  garb  of  our 
masters.  It  seems  to  me  that  it  is  not  right,  and  likely  to 
arouse  great  bitterness,  that  there  should  be  no  distinction  be- 
tween the  Jews  and  our  masters ;  also,  it  is  a  mockery  of  the 
sacred  theology,  and  the  most  excellent  Emperor  and  lord  ought 
not  to  permit  that  a  Jew,  who  is  at  the  best  only  a  dog  and  an 
enemy  of  Christ,  should  go  about  like  a  doctor  of  the  sacred 
theology.  I  also  send  you  a  composition  of  Master  Bernhard 
Plumilegus  (in  common  language,  Federleser),  which  he  has 
sent  to  me  from  Wittenberg.  You  know  him,  for  he  was  your 
fellow  scholar  at  Deventer.  He  told  me  that  you  had  jolly 
times  together :  he  is  a  good  fellow  and  cannot  praise  you 
enough.  Then  Farewell,  in  the  Lord's  name.  Given  at 
Leipzig. 


LETTERS  OF  OBSCURE   MEN.  189 

NICHOLAS  CAPRIMUI.GIUS,  BACCALAUREUS,  TO  MASTER  ORTUIN  GRATIUS. 

Many  greetings,  with  deep  respect  to  your  excellency,  as  is. 
my  duty  in  writing  to  your  Mastership.  Most  worthy  Master, 
you  must  know  that  there  is  a  most  important  question,  in  re- 
gard to  which  I  desire  and  beseech  a  decision  from  your  Mas- 
tership. There  is  here  a  certain  Greek  who,  when  he  writes 
Greek,  always  puts  accents  over  the  words.  Recently  I  had 
occasion  to  say  :  "  Master  Ortuin,  from  De venter,  also  dealt 
with  Greek  grammar,  and  understood  it  quite  as  well  as  this, 
man,  and  he  never  wrote  the  accents,  and  I  know  that  he 
understood  what  he  was  doing  quite  as  well  as  this  man,  and 
could  have  excelled  the  Greek  if  he  had  desired,"  But  the 
others  would  not  believe  me,  and  my  comrades  and  colleagues 
besought  me  to  write  your  lordship  that  you  might  instruct  me 
as  to  how  it  ought  to  be,  whether  you  ought  to  put  the  accents 
there  or  not.  If  not,  then  we  will  make  it  so  hot  for  the  Greek 
that  he  will  feel  it,  and  we  will  bring  it  about  that  he  shall  have 
few  listeners.  I  remember  to  have  seen,  when  I  was  with  you 
in  Cologne  at  the  house  of  Heinrich  Quentel,  where  you  were 
proof-reader  and  had  to  correct  Greek,  that  you  drew  your  pen 
through  all  accents  that  stood  above  the  letters,  with  these 
words:  "What  is  this  foolishness  ?"  And  so  it  occurred  to. 
me  that  you  had  some  reason  for  this,  otherwise  you  would  not 
have  done  it.  You  are  a  marvelous  man,  and  God  has  im- 
parted to  you  the  great  grace  to  know  something  of  everything 
knowable.  Therefore,  you  must  give  thanks  to  God  the  Lord, 
to  the  blessed  Virgin  and  to  all  God's  saints  in  your  poetry. 
Take  it  not  evil  of  me  that  I  trouble  your  excellence  with  ques- 
tions of  this  nature,  since  I  do  it  for  my  instruction.  Farewell.. 
Leipzig. 

MASTER  JOHANNES  HIPP  TO  MASTER  ORTUIN  GRATIUS,   GREETING. 

"  Rejoice  in  the  Lord,  O  ye  just :  praise  becometh  the  up- 
right" (Psalms  xxxii.  n).  In  order  that  you  may  not  say  in. 
anger,  "  What  does  he  want  with  this  quotation  ?"  you  must 
hasten  to  read  a  piece  of  joyful  news,  which  will  wonderfullj' 
rejoice  your  excellence  and  which  I  will  briefly  relate.  There 
was  here  a  poet,  by  name  Johannes  Sommerfeld  ;  he  was  very 


1 90  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

arrogant,  looked  down  upon  masters  of  arts  and  made  little  of 
them  in  his  lectures,  saying  that  they  were  ignorant,  that  one 
poet  was  worth  ten  masters,  and  that  in  processions  it  was 
proper  that  poets  should  have  precedence  over  masters  and 
licentiates.     He  lectured  on  Pliny  and  other  authors,  and  ex- 
pressed himself  to  the  effect  that  the  masters  of  art  were  not 
masters  of  the  seven  liberal  arts,  but  rather  of  the  seven  deadly 
sins  ;  that  they  stood  upon  no  good  foundation,  since  they  were 
not  learned  in  poetics,  but  knew  only  Petrus  Hispanus  and  the 
Parva  logicalia.     He  had  many  listeners,  and  among  them  noble 
bursars,  and  he  said  there  was  nothing  in  the  Scotists  and  the 
Thoniists,  and  made  sport  of  the  holy  teachers.     The  masters 
waited  for  convenient  opportunity  to  avenge  themselves,  with 
the  help  of  God,  and  it  was  the  divine  will  that  he  held  a  dis 
course  wherein  he  scored   masters,    doctors,    licentiates   and 
bachelors,  praised  his  own  branch  and  spoke  slightingly  of  the 
holy  theology.     In  this  manner  he  aroused  great  anger  on  the 
part  of  the  gentlemen  of  the  faculty.     The  masters  and  doctors 
took  counsel  and  said  :  ' '  What  shall  we  do  ?    This  man  is  be- 
having in  a  shocking  manner  ;  if  we  let  him  go  on  in  this  way 
the  world  will  believe  he  is  more  learned  than  we.     L,et  not 
these  upstarts  come  and  say  they  are  of  more  importance  than 
their  elders,  and  in  this  way  bring  shame  and  ridicule  upon 
our  university."     Then  said  Master  Andreas  Delitzsch,  who, 
moreover,  is  a  good  poet,  that  it  seemed  to  him  that  Sommer- 
feld  was,  in  respect  to  the  university,  somewhat  like  the  fifth 
wheel  to  a  wagon,  because  he  stood  in  the  way  of  the  other 
faculties,  by  whose  aid  the  academic  youth  might  be  suitably 
prepared  for  graduation.     The  other  masters  swore  that  this 
was  so,  and  the  result  was  that  they  came  to  the  conclusion 
that  this  poet  should  be  expelled,  or,  at  least,  shut  out,  even  if 
thereby  they  should  draw  upon  themselves  his  enmity.     They 
summoned  him  before  the  rector,  and  posted  the  summons  on 
the  church  doors  ;    he  appeared  with  counsel,  demanded  the 
privilege  of  defending  himself,  and  was  accompanied  with  other 
friends,  who  stood  by  him.     The  masters  demanded  that  these 
should  retire,  otherwise  they  would  be  forsworn  if  they  ap- 
peared against  the  university.     Indeed,  the  masters  showed 


LETTERS  OF  OBSCURE   MEN.  1 91 

themselves  full  of  courage  in  this  struggle ;  they  remained 
firm  and  vowed  that  iu  the  interest  of  justice  they  would  spare 
no  one.  Certain  jurists  and  courtiers  plead  for  him.  To  these 
the  masters  replied  that  it  was  not  possible  ;  they  had  their 
statutes,  and  according  to  these  statutes  he  must  be  dismissed. 
What  was  remarkable  is,  that  the  prince  himself  (Duke  George) 
interceded  for  him.  It  did  no  good,  however,  for  they  said  to 
the  Duke  that  it  was  his  duty  to  uphold  the  statutes  of  the  uni- 
versity, for  the  statutes  are  to  the  university  what  the  binding 
is  to  a  book  ;  were  there  no  binding,  then  the  leaves  would  fall 
apart,  and  were  there  no  statutes  there  would  be  no  order  in  the 
university  ;  dissension  would  reign  amongst  its  members  and 
result  in  complete  chaos.  Therefore,  the  prince  must  look  out 
for  the  best  interests  of  the  university,  as  his  father  had  done 
before  him.  In  this  wise  the  prince  allowed  himself  to  be  per- 
suaded, and  declared  he  could  not  stand  out  against  the  uni- 
versity, and  that  it  was  better  for  one  to  be  dismissed  than  that 
the  whole  university  should  suffer.  The  masters  were  much 
pleased  with  this,  and  said:  "  My  lord  Duke,  God  be  thanked 
for  your  wise  decision . ' '  Then  the  rector  caused  an  order  to  be 
posted  upon  the  church  doors,  to  the  effect  that  Sommerfeld 
was  retired  for  ten  years.  His  auditors,  however,  expressed 
themselves  variously  in  the  matter,  and  said  that  the  members 
of  the  council  had  done  wrong  toward  Sommerfeld;  but  these 
gentlemen  replied  in  turn  that  they  did  not  care  a  penny's 
worth.  Certain  bursars  expressed  themselves  to  the  effect  that 
Sommerfeld  would  revenge  himself  for  the  insult  and  would 
summon  the  university  before  the  Roman  curia.  Then  the 
masters  laughed  and  said:  "Nonsense;  what  would  the  fellow 
accomplish  ?"  And  now  that  great  harmony  now  reigns  in  the 
university,  and  Master  Delitzsch  lectures  on  the  humanities; 
and  also  the  master  from  Rothenburg,  who  has  written  a  book 
quite  three  times  as  large  as  Virgil's  complete  works.  He  has 
gotten  together  much  of  value  in  this  book  in  defence  of  our 
holy  mother  church  and  in  praise  of  the  saints;  he  has  recom- 
mended especially  our  university,  both  the  sacred  theology  and 
the  humanistic  faculty,  and  he  blames  those  worldly  and  heathen 
poets.  The  masters  also  say  that  his  poems  are  as  good  as  the 


IQ2  SOURCE-BOOK   OP  THE   GERMAN    RENAISSANCE. 

poems  of  Virgil,  and  are  without  errors  ;  for  he  perfectly  un- 
derstands the  art  of  writing  verse  and  has  been  a  good  versifier 
for  the  past  twenty  years.  Wherefore,  the  gentlemen  of  the 
council  gave  him  permission  to  lecture  on  this  book  instead  of 
on  Terence,  for  it  is  more  valuable  than  Terence  and  inculcates 
good  Christian  doctrine,  and  does  not  deal  with  harlots  and 
scalawags,  like  Terence.  You  must  spread  this  news  in  your 
university,  and  perhaps  it  will  happen  to  Busch  as  it  has  hap-* 
pened  to  Sommerfeld.  When  are  you  going  to  send  me  your 
book  against  Reuchlin  ?  You  often  mention  it,  but  nothing 
has  come  to  me  yet.  You  have  written  me  you  would  be  sure 
to  send  it,  but  you  have  not  done  so.  May  God  forgive  you, 
since  you  do  not  love  me  as  I  love  you,  for  you  are  to  me  as  my 
own  heart.  But  send  it  to  me,  for  "  I  have  greatly  desired  to 
eat  this  Paschal  lamb  with  you  " — that  is  to  say,  to  read  this 
book.  Also  write  me  the  news,  and  compose  an  essay  or  a  few 
verses  to  my  honor,  if  I  be  worth  the  trouble.  Fare  you  well 
in  Christ  the  I/ord  our  God,  from  everlasting  unto  everlasting! 
Amen. 

BROTHER  SIMON  WURST,  DOCTOR  OF  SACRED  THEOLOGY,  TO  MASTER 
ORTUIN  GRATIUS,  GREETING. 

Since  the  defence  of  Johannes  Pfefferkorn  "against  the 
calumnies,  etc.,"  which  he  composed  in  L,atin  has  been  received 
here,  we  have  had  something  new  every  day.  One  says  this, 
another  that ;  one  is  for  him,  another  for  Reuchlin;  one  defends, 
another  condemns  him;  it  is  a  desperate  struggle,  and  they  are 
angry  enough  to  come  to  blows.  If  I  should  relate  to  you  all 
the  feuds  that  have  arisen  out  of  this  book,  the  period  of  an 
Olympiad  would  not  suffice,  so  I  will  merely  make  a  few  re- 
marks by  the  way.  The  majority,  and  for  the  most  part  the 
worldly  masters,  the  presbyters  and  brethren  of  the  Minorites 
assert  that  Pfefferkorn  could  not  possibly  be  the  author  of  fie 
book,  for  he  has  never  learned  a  word  of  Latin.  I  replied  that 
objection  had  no  force,  although  it  has  been  urged  against 
many  prominent  men  to  this  very  day,  but  unjustly;  for  Jo- 
hannes Pfefferkorn.  who  always  carries  pen  and  ink  with  him, 
could  write  down  what  he  hears,  whether  it  be  in  public  lee-. 


LETTERS  OF  OBSCURE  MEN.  193 

tures,  or  in  private  assemblies,  or  when  students  or  brethren 
from  the  Dominican  order  come  to  his  house,  or  when  he  goes 
to  the  bath.  Holy  Lord,  how  many  sermons  must  he  have 
heard  during  twelve  years  !  How  many  admonitions  !  How 
many  quotations  from  the  holy  fathers  !  These  he  might  re- 
tain in  his  memory,  or  he  might  communicate  them  to  his  wife, 
or  write  them  on  the  wall,  or  enter  them  in  his  diary.  In  the 
same  way  I  called  attention  briefly  to  the  fact  that  Johannes 
Pfefferkorn  says  of  himself — not  with  boasting— that  he  can 
apply  to  any  theme,  be  it  good  or  evil,  everything  that  is  con 
tained  in  the  Bible,  or  in  the  Holy  Scriptures,  either  in  Hebrew 
or  in  German;  and  he  knows  by  heart  all  the  evangels  that  are 
expounded  the  whole  year  through,  and  can  say  them  off  to  a 
letter,  a  thing  which  those  jurists  and  poets  cannot  do.  More- 
over, he  has  a  son,  Lorenz  by  name,  a  really  talented  young 
man,  who  is  pale  as  a  ghost  from  nothing  but  study;  and  in- 
deed, I  wonder  that  his  father  allows  him  to  pursue  his  studies 
with  those  devilish  poets.  This  son  collects  for  his  father  sen- 
tences from  the  orators  and  poets  upon  every  possible  subjectr 
as  well  those  which  he  himself  uses  as  those  used  by  his  teachers,, 
and  he  also  knows  how  to  cite  his  Hugh.  And  thus  Johannes1 
Pfefferkorn  has  come  to  know  much  by  means  of  this  talented' 
youth,  and  what  he,  as  an  unlearned  man,  is  not  able  to  ac- 
c  jmplish  of  himself,  his  son  does  for  him.  Therefore,  woe  to- 
all  those  who  have  spread  abroad  the  false  report  that  he  did; 
not  himself  write  his  books,  but  that  the  doctors  and  masters- 
in  Cologne  are  the  true  authors  !  Johannes  Reuchlin  has  rea- 
son to  blush  and  to  sigh  to  eternity  for  having  said  that  Jo- 
hannes Pfefferkorn  did  not  himself  compose  his  ' '  Hand'spiegel, ' ' 
whereby  it  has  been  contended  amongst  learned  men  that  three 
men  furnished  him  with  the  authorities  which  he  cited.  Where- 
upon a  certain  one  said:  "  Who  are  those  men  ?"  I  answered: 
"  I  do  not  know.  I  believe,  however,  that  they  are  the  same 
three  men  who  appeared  to  Abraham,  as  we  read  in  the  first 
book  of  Moses."  And  when  I  had  spoken  they  laughed  at  me- 
and  treated  me  as  if  I  were  a  simpleton.  I  wish  the  devil 
would  strike  them  with  a  plague,  as  is  written  in  the  book  of 
Job,  which  we  are  now  reading  at  table  in  our  monastery.  Say,. 


194  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

then,  to  Johannes  Pfefferkorn,  he  must  have  patience,  for  I 
hope  that  God  will  work  a  miracle;  and  greet  him  in  my  name. 
Also  greet  for  me  his  wife,  since  you  know  her  well,  but  secretly. 
Farewell.  Written  in  haste  and  without  much  reflection,  at 
Antwerp. 

MASTER  BERTHOtD  HACKERI.ING  TO  MASTER  ORTUIN  GRATIUS. 

Brotherly  love  in  the  place  of  greeting,  honored  sir  !  When 
I  left  you  I  promised  that  I  would  keep  you  informed  of  all 
news,  and  let  you  know  how  I  am  getting  along.  Know,  then, 
that  I  have  been  two  months  in  the  city  of  Rome  and  have  as 
yet  secured  no  patron.  An  assessor  of  the  Roman  curia  was 
disposed  to  take  me.  I  was  quite  delighted,  and  said:  "It  is 
well,  sir,  but  will  your  magnificence  kindly  tell  me  what  I  shall 
have  to  do."  He  answered  that  I  would  be  an  hostler,  and  my 
duty  would  be  to  take  care  of  a  mule,  to  feed  and  water  it,  curry 
and  rub  it  down,  and  have  it  in  readiness  when  he  wished  to 
ride  forth,  with  bridle,  saddle  and  everything.  Then  I  must 
run  beside  the  mule  to  the  court-room  and  back  home  again. 
I  told  him  that  such  work  was  not  for  me;  that  I  was  a  master 
of  the  liberal  arts  in  Cologne,  and  could  do  nothing  of  the  sort. 
He  answered:  "  Well,  if  you  don't  want  to  do  it,  its  your  own 
loss."  And  so  I  believe  I  will  go  back  home  again.  I  cer- 
tainly will  not  curry  a  mule  or  clean  out  stables.  I  had  rather 
the  devil  would  fly  away  with  his  mule,  stable  and  all !  And  I 
believe,  too,  that  it  would  be  against  the  statutes  of  our  uni- 
versity; for  a  master  must  conduct  himself  like  a  master.  And 
it  would  be  a  great  disgrace  to  the  university  if  a  Cologne  mas- 
ter should  do  such  a  thing.  For  the  honor  of  the  university 
I  shall  return  home.  And,  anyway,  I  do  not  like  Rome;  the 
people  in  the  chancellery  and  in  the  curia  are  so  haughty;  you 
would  not  believe  it.  One  of  them  said  to  me  yesterday,  he 
would  spit  upon  Cologne  masters.  I  told  him  I  hoped  he  might 
have  a  chance  to  spit  on  the  gallows.  Then  he  said  he  too  was 
a  master,  that  is  to  say  a  master  of  the  curia,  and  that  a  master 
of  the  curia  stood  high  above  a  master  of  the  liberal  arts  from 
Germany.  I  answered:  "Impossible;"  and  said,  moreover, 
"  You  mean  to  say  you  are  as  good  as  I,  when  you  have  passed 


LETTERS  OF  OBSCURE  MEN.  195 

no  examination,  as  I  have,  in  which  five  masters  have  tested 
me  thoroughly  ?  You  are  a  master  made  with  a  seal."  Upon 
this  he  began  to  dispute  with  me  and  said:  "What  is  a  mas- 
ter ?"  I  answered:  "  A  person  of  proved  ability,  regularly  pro- 
moted and  graduated  in  the  seven  liberal  arts,  after  he  has 
passed  the  master's  examination;  who  has  the  right  to  wear  a 
gold  ring,  and  a'silken  band  on  his  gown,  and  who  bears  him- 
self toward  his  pupils  as  a  king  toward  his  subjects.  And 
magister  is  used  in  four  senses:  In  one  sense  it  is  derived  from 
magis  and  ter,  because  a  master  knows  three  times  as  much  as 
an  ordinary  person.  In  the  second  sense  from  magis  and  terreo, 
because  a  master  excites  terror  when  his  pupils  look  upon  him. 
In  the  third  sense  from  magis  and  theron  (that  is,  status),  be- 
cause the  master  in  his  position  must  be  higher  than  his  pupils. 
In  the  fourth  sense  from  magis  and  sedere,  because  the  master 
must  sit  far  higher  than  any  one  of  his  pupils."  Then  he 
asked  me:  "  Who  is  your  authority  ?"  I  answered  that  I  had 
read  it  in  the  Vade  mecum.  At  once  he  was  disposed  to  blame 
the  book,  and  said  that  it  was  no  reliable  source.  I  answered: 
' '  You  discredit  those  ancients,  and  yet  you  do  not  know  any 
better.  I  have  never  heard  any  one  in  Cologne  discredit  this 
book.  Are  you  not  ashamed  of  yourself?' '  And  in  great  anger 
I  left  him.  And  once  more  I  tell  you  that  I  am  disposed  to  re- 
turn to  Germany,  for  there  the  masters  are  gentlemen,  and 
rightly  so.  This  I  can  show  from  the  gospels,  for  Christ  called 
Himself  "Master"  and  not  "Doctor"  when  He  said,  "Ye 
call  me  L,ord  and  Master,  and  ye  do  well,  for  such  am  I. ' '  But 
I  cannot  write  further,  for  I  have  no  more  paper,  and  it  is  far 
to  the  Catnpo  Fiore.  Farewell !  Written  at  the  Roman  curia. 

MASTER    CONRADUS  UNCKEBUNCK  TO    MASTER  ORTUIN  GRATIUS,    MANY 

GREETINGS. 

"  A  mouth  have  they  and  speak  not;  eyes  have  they  and  see 
not;  ears  have  they  and  hear  not,"  says  the  Psalmist.  These 
words  may  serve  as  introduction  and  as  text  for  what  I  am 
about  to  say.  Master  Ortuin  has  a  mouth  and  speaks  not;  not 
even  so  much  as  to  say  to  a  servant  of  the  curia  on  his  way  to 
Rome;  "  Give  my  regards  to  Conrad  Unckebunck."  Eyes  has 


196  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

he  also  and  sees  not;  for  I  have  written  him  many  letters  and 
he  has  not  answered  me,  as  if  he  read  them  not,  or  merely 
glanced  at  them.  In  the  third  place  he  has  ears  and  hears  not: 
for  I  have  asked  several  friends  to  greet  him  when  they  came 
where  he  was;  but  he  has  heard  none  of  my  greetings;  for  he 
has  not  answered  them.  In  this  you  clearly  do  wrong,  for  I 
am  fond  of  you  and  you  ought  to  be  fond  of  me  in  return;  but 
you  are  not,  for  you  do  not  write  me.  I  should  be  so  glad  if 
you  would  write  me,  for  when  I  read  your  letters  my  inmost 
heart  rejoices.  I  have  heard,  however,  that  you  have  few 
hearers,  and  that  your  complaint  is  that  Busch  and  Csesarius 
have  drawn  the  scholars  away  from  you;  and  yet  they  do  not 
understand  how  to  expound  the  poets  allegorically,  as  you  do, 
nor  how  to  quote  the  holy  writ.  I  believe  the  devil  is  in  those 
poets.  They  are  the  ruin  of  all  universities.  I  heard  a  Leip- 
zig master,  who  has  been  a  master  for  thirty-six  years,  say  that 
in  his  younger  days  that  university  was  in  a  flourishing  con- 
dition, because  there  was  no  poet  for  twenty  miles  round  about. 
And  he  also  said  that  the  students  diligently  prepared  their 
lessons,  as  well  the  general  as  the  professional,  and  it  was  reck- 
oned a  great  disgrace  if  a  student  went  through  the  streets 
without  his  Petrus  Hispanus  or  the  Parva  logicalia  under  his 
arm;  and  if  they  were  students  of  grammar  they  carried  the 
Partes  of  Alexander,  or  the  Vade  mecum,  or  the  Exercitium 
puerorum,  or  the  Opus  -minus,  or  the  Dicta  of  Johannes  Sinthen. 
Moreover,  in  the  schools  they  gave  attention  and  held  the 
masters  of  arts  in  honor,  and  when  they  saw  a  master  they  were 
as  frightened  as  if  they  had  seen  the  devil.  And  he  said  that 
the  bachelor's  degree  was  conferred  four  times  a  year,  and  that 
on  each  occasion  sixty,  or  at  least  fifty,  degrees  were  given.  At 
that  time  the  university  was  flourishing,  if  any  one  passed  in 
half  the  subjects  of  a  year's  course  he  received  the  bachelor's 
degree,  and  if  he  passed  in  half  the  subjects  for  three  years,  a 
masters's  degree;  the  result  was  that  their  parents  were  satis- 
fied and  willing  to  spend  their  money,  for  they  saw  that  their 
sons  were  attaining  to  honors.  But  now  students  wished  to  hear 
Virgil  and  Pliny  and  other  new  fangled  authors,  and  when  they 
have  listened  for  five  years,  even  then  they  are  not  graduated; 


LETTERS  OF  OBSCURE  MEN.  197 

and  when  they  go  back  home  their  parents  ask:  "  What  are 
you  ?"  and  they  reply  that  they  are  nothing,  but  that  they  have 
studied  poetry.  But  their  parents  do  not  know  what  that  is; 
.and  when  they  see  that  they  are  not  grammarians,  they  are  dis- 
satisfied with  the  university  and  regret  having  spent  their 
money.  And  they  say  to  others  later  on  "  Do  not  send  your 
boys  to  the  university,  because  they  study  nothing,  but  hang 
about  the  streets  by  night,  and  the  money  is  wasted  which  is 
given  for  study."  And  this  master  told  me  further,  that  in  his 
time  there  were  quite  two  thousand  students  at  Leipzig  and  as 
many  at  Erfurt,  and  at  Vienna  four  thousand  and  as  many  at 
Cologne,  and  so  on  at  the  other  universities.  But  now  at  all 
universities  together  there  are  not  as  many  students  as  formerly 
at  one  or  two.  The  Leipzig  masters  bewail  the  lack  of  stud- 
ents, for  the  poets  have  done  them  this  injury.  When  parents 
send  their  sons  to  the  bursaries  and  colleges  they  are  unwilling 
to  remain  there,  but  go  to  the  poets  and  study  worthless  stuff. 
He  told  me  also  that  he  himself  formerly  had  forty  pupils  at 
Leipzig,  and  when  he  went  to  church,  or  to  market,  or  to  stroll 
in  the  Rosen garten,  they  marched  along  behind  him,  It  was 
then  a  serious  offense  to  study  poetry;  and  when  any  one  ac- 
knowledged in  the  confessional  that  he  had  secretly  heard  a 
bachelor  expound  Virgil,  the  priest  imposed  a  severe  penalty 
upon  him,  causing  him  to  fast  every  Friday  or  to  repeat  each 
day  seven  penitential  psalms.  And  he  swore  to  me  upon  his 
conscience  that  a  candidate  for  the  master's  degree  had  been 
turned  down  because  one  of  the  examiners  had  once  seen  him, 
on  a  holiday,  reading  Terence.  If  such  conditions  obtained 
nowadays  in  the  universities,  I  should  not  be  slaving  here  in 
the  curia.  But  what  can  we  do  at  the  universities?  There  is 
nothing  to  be  made.  The  bursars  are  no  longer  willing  to  stay 
:in  the  bursaries  or  under  the  masters,  and  among  twenty  stud- 
ents scarcely  one  has  any  intention  of  studying  for  a  degree;  but 
all  wish  to  study  the  humanities.  And  when  a  master  lectures, 
he  has  no  hearers;  but  the  poets  have  at  their  lectures  an  in- 
credible number  of  hearers.  Thus,  all  the  universities  of  Ger- 
many are  losing;  and  we  must  pray  to  God  that  the  poets  may 
-die,  for  "  it  is  better  that  one  should  die,"  etc.;  that  is  to  say, 


198  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

that  the  poets,  of  whom  there  are  only  a  few  in  each  university ,. 
should  die,  rather  than  that  so  many  universities  should  perish. 
Write  me  now,  or  I  will  complain  loudly  of  your  negligence. 
Farewell.  Written  at  Rome. 

JOHANNES  KALB  TO  MASTER  ORTUIN  GRATIUS. 

A  friendly  greeting,  honorable  sir  and  venerable  master.  It 
surprises  me  greatly  that  you  are  always  pestering  me  with 
your  everlasting  demand:  "  Write  me  some  news."  You  are 
always  eager  to  learn  the  news,  but  I  have  other  things  to  do. 
I  cannot  bother  about  novelties;  as  it  is,  I  am  obliged  to  run 
hither  and  thither  and  solicit  in  order  to  get  a  favorable  deci- 
sion and  acquire  that  benefice.  But  if  you  will  be  content,  I 
will  write  you  once,  so  that  in  the  future  you  may  let  me  rest 
with  your  news.  You  have  no  doubt  heard  that  the  pope  has 
a  great  animal,  called  Elephant,  and  that  he  holds  it  in  great 
honor  and  loves  it  much.  Now  you  must  know  that  this  ani- 
mal is  dead.  When  it  was  taken  sick  the  pope  was  in  great 
distress,  and  summoned  several  physicians  and  said  to  them  : 
"  If  it  is  possible,  cure  Elephant  for  me."  Then  they  did  their 
best;  made  a  careful  diagnosis  and  administered  a  purge  that 
cost  five  hundred  golden  florins,  but  it  was  in  vain,  for  the  ani- 
mal died.  The  pope  grieved  much  for  Elephant.  They  say 
he  gave  a  thousand  ducats  for  Elephant;  for  it  was  a  wonderful 
animal,  and  had  a  long  snout  of  prodigious  size.  When  it  be- 
held the  pope  it  knelt  before  him  and  cried  with  a  terrible  voice, 
"  bar  !  bar  !  bar  !"  I  believe  there  was  no  other  animal  of  the 
kind  in  the  world.  They  say,  also,  that  the  king  of  France  and 
King  Charles  have  concluded  a  peace  for  many  years  with 
mutual  pledges.  Many,  however,  are  of  the  opinion  that  the 
peace  was  made  with  reservations  and  will  not  last  long.  I  do 
not  know  what  the  facts  really  are,  and  do  not  care  much;  for 
when  I  come  back  to  Germany  I  shall  go  to  my  pastorate  and 
enjoy  life.  I  have  there  many  geese,  chickens  and  ducks,  and  I 
can  keep  five  or  six  cows,  which  will  give  me  milk,  so  that  I 
can  make  cheese  and  butter,  I  want  to  have  a  cook  who  un- 
derstands such  work.  She  must  be  an  elderly  woman;  for  if 
she  were  young,  she  would  be  a  temptation  to  the  flesh,  and  I 


JOHANNES   BUTZBACH.  199 

might  sin.  She  must  also  know  how  to  spin,  for  I  will  buy  her 
flax.  And  I  will  also  keep  two  or  three  pigs  and  fatten  them, 
so  that  I  shall  have  plenty  of  pork;  for  above  all  things  I  will 
supply  my  house  with  an  abundance  of  material  for  the  kitchen. 
Once  in  a  while  I  will  butcher  an  ox,  sell  half  to  the  peasants- 
and  smoke  the  rest.  Back  of  the  house  I  have  a  garden,  where 
I  shall  plant  garlic,  onions  and  parsley,  and  I  shall  also  have 
cabbage,  turnips  and  other  things.  In  the  winter  I  shall  sit 
in  my  room  and  study,  so  that  I  may  preach  to  the  peasants 
out  of  the  Sermones  parati  or  the  Disdpuli,  and  also  out  of  the 
Bible,  and  in  this  wise  I  shall  be  well  fixed  for  preaching.  And 
in  summer  I  shall  go  fishing,  or  work  in  the  garden,  and  take 
no  heed  of  wars;  for  I  shall  live  for  myself,  read  my  prayers 
and  say  mass,  and  have  no  care  for  those  worldly  affairs  which 
bring  destruction  to  the  soul.  Farewell.  Written  at  the 
Roman  curia. 

JOHANNES  BUTZBACH* 

Johannes  Butzbach,  1478-1526,  is  to  be  reckoned  among  the  conserva- 
tive humanists  of  the  sixteenth  century.  The  struggles  of  his  earlier 
career,  related  in  part  below,  give  evidence  of  his  high  appreciation  of 
the  value  of  learning.  This  sentiment  he  never  lost,  and  during  the 
years  of  his  administration  of  the  affairs  of  the  abbey  of  Laach,  from  1507 
to  his  death,  his  constant  effort  was  to  infuse  into  the  life  of  his  com- 
munity a  zeal  for  study  and  intellectual  improvement.  His  literary  ac- 
tivity centered  upon  the  much  debated  question  as  to  whether  the  read- 
ing of  classical  authors  was  conducive  or  detrimental  to  Christian  morals. 
Butzbach,  true  to  the  traditions  of  Deventer,  affirmed  their  utility,  re- 
garding their  use  as  part  of  the  preparation  for  the  completer  understand- 
ing of  the  holy  scriptures,  whose  true  significance  might  only  be  inter- 
preted by  men  of  universal  culture.  Replying  to  the  objection,  so  often 
urged,  that  classical  writings  contained  much  that  was  contrary  to  Chris- 
tian ethics,  Butzbach  founded  his  argument  upon  the  saying  of  St.  Basil, 
that  the  literary  worker,  like  the  bee,  should  learn  to  appropriate  only 
the  wholesome  nectar  and  to  reject  the  poisonous  juices  of  the  flowers 
amidst  which  he  labored. 

*The  following  selections  are  from  the  Hodoporicon  or  L,ittle  Book  of 
Wandering.  The  sole  manuscript  of  this  autobiographical  work  of  Butz- 
bach is  in  possession  of  the  library  of  the  University  of  Bonn. 


200          SOURCE-BOOK  OF  THE  GERMAN  RENAISSANCE. 

Book  i.     Chapter  8. 

In  the  earlier  chapters  Butzbach  relates  the  story  of  his  infancy  and 
primary  education.  His  career  in  the  school  of  his  native  town  was 
brought  to  an  untimely  close  by  repeated  acts  of  truancy,  resulting  in  a 
cruel  chastisement  at  the  hands  of  the  master.  About  this  time  a  neigh- 
bor's son,  himself  a  wandering  student,  happened  to  be  visiting  at  home, 
and  offered  to  take  the  young  Johannes  under  his  protection  and  make  a 
scholar  of  him.  The  parents,  who  resented  Johannes1  cruel  treatment  at 
the  village  master's  hands,  consented,  and  /ohannes  set  forth  with  a  slen- 
der store  of  money  and  a  large  equipment  of  blessings  and  hope. 

Robbed  of  my  parents  and  homeless,  a  living  image  of  grief 
and  sorrow,  sobbing  and  crying  aloud  ceaselessly,  I  followed 
with  hesitating  steps  the  student  striding  on  before.  If  I  failed 
at  any  time  to  come  to  his  bidding,  he  became  ever  freer  with 
his  harsh  words  and  bitter  reproaches  as  the  way  lengthened 
that  seperated  us  from  home.  In  this  way  he  wounded  still 
more  my  lacerated  spirit.  Indeed,  he  was  by  nature  of  un- 
usual harshness;  and  the  less  cause  he  had  to  fear  my  escape, 
on  account  of  the  growing  distance  from  home  and  my  increas- 
ing ignorance  of  the  way,  the  more  he  sought  to  hold  me  in 
check  with  fear  and  at  the  same  time  to  spur  me  on  with 
threats.  After  a  march  of  two  good  miles,  which  indeed  was 
no  trifle,  as  they  say,  especially  as  in  this  instance  they  sepa- 
rated two  creatures  inspired  with  mutual  love,  we  came  from 
Miltenberg  at  nightfall  to  the  village  of  Kiilsheim,  already  men- 
tioned. Wearily  I  followed  the  student  into  the  best  inn  that 
the  place  afforded. 

Chapter  o. 

As  we  entered  the  door  of  the  inn,  the  landlord  came  forward 
to  meet  us,  and  very  prudently  inquired  from  what  country  we 
were  come,  whither  we  were  bound  and  what  might  be  our 
wish.  The  student  gave  him  little  satisfaction,  but  asked  him 
if  he  could  accommodate  us.  To  this  the  landlord  replied:  "If 
your  money  is  good,  and  you  are  good  drinkers,  you  will  be 
welcome  guests."  The  student  rejoined:  "The  money  is  all 
right.  Just  have  the  table  prepared  and  an  abundance  to  eat 
and  drink  set  forth."  "You  talk  well,"  replied  the  landlord, 


JOHANNES   BUTZBACH.  2OI 

"and  I  will  do  with  pleasure  what  you  ask.  I  wish,  however, 
that  there  were  more  of  you;  for.  hoping  that  guests  would  ar- 
rive, I  have  prepared  a  more  than  usually  sumptuous  meal  for 
this  evening."  When  the  student  heard  this  he  exclaimed: 
"  That  is  a  piece  of  good  fortune,  that  you  have  prepared  such 
abundant  refreshment.  I  have  here  several  relatives,  with 
whom  I  shall  be  glad  to  pass  a  merry  evening  once  more  before 
my  departure  ;  and  since  they  are  in  service  and  not  well-to-do, 
I  will  pay  the  whole  reckoning,  and  you  may  rest  easy  on  that 
score."  "  A  bargain  !"  cried  the  landlord.  "  I  will  have  them 
summoned  at  once." 

The  guests  did  not  keep  us  waiting,  but  set  themselves  to  the 
table  and  showed  themselves  valiant  trenchermen.  The  student 
took  no  heed  of  what  might  become  of  his  poor  little  companion. 
When  the  landlord  inquired:  "  Where  is  the  young  fellow  that 
came  with  you?"  the  student  looked  about  him  and  replied; 
"  I  think  he  must  have  gone  to  sleep  there  behind  the  stove, 
tired  out  with  the  journey.  Let  him  sleep  and  rest  out.  Sleep 
will  do  him  more  good  than  food." 

Chapter  10. 

I  was  not  asleep,  however,  as  he  said;  but  I  dared  not  ex- 
press the  feelings  his  words  aroused.  During  the  day,  occupied 
with  preparations  for  the  journey,  I  had  eaten  very  little,  nor 
had  I  desired  to  eat.  Now  I  was  hungry,  but  I  dared  not  come 
to  the  table  without  an  invitation  from  the  student.  At  the 
same  time  the  gnawing  in  my  stomach  and  the  pangs  of  hunger 
let  me  neither  sleep  nor  rest.  I  pretended  to  sleep,  however, 
and  surrendered  myself  patiently  to  niy  fate,  picturing  to  my- 
self my  wretched  and  abandoned  condition.  When  the  meal 
was  over,  the  student  paid  the  reckoning  for  all  the  guests  out 
of  my  money,  just  as  though  it  had  been  his  own.  What  could 
I  say  ?  What  had  I  the  courage  to  do  or  think  under  the  cir- 
cumstances ?  He  regarded  me  as  something  delivered  over  to 
him,  sold  to  him,  indeed,  or  as  some  estray  that  he  had  picked 
up  and  made  his  property. 

Early  in  the  morning  we  got  under  way  and  came  to  the 
town  of  Bishofsheim,  two  miles  distant.  There  we  took  a  bite 


202  SOURCE- BOOK   OF  THE  GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

and  wandered  on  our  way  to  Windsheim,  an  imperial  city.  As 
we  entered  the  town  I  was  lost  in  admiration  of  the  massive 
walls,  the  houses  high  as  the  heavens,  and  the  churches  and 
towers,  the  like  of  which  I  had  never  seen  in  our  native  town 
or  elsewhere. 

On  the  following  day  we  journeyed  further  and  came  to  the 
city  of  Longenzenn.  Here  we  were  affectionately  received  by 
a  citizen  of  the  town,  a  weaver,  who  not  long  before  had 
worked  for  several  years  with  my  father.  By  him  we  were  en- 
tertained and  otherwise  hospitably  treated.  We  conveyed  to 
him  the  heartfelt  greetings  of  our  parents,  as  they  had  urgently 
requested.  He  consoled  me  for  the  separation  from  my  parents- 
as  if  I  had  been  his  own  child,  and  succeeded  in  quieting  my 
grief.  He  never  tired  of  cheering  my  saddened  spirit  with 
friendly  conversation;  nor  did  he  cease  to  sooth  my  wounded 
heart  with  gentle  words,  and  cleverly  cited  as  an  example  the 
fact  that  he,  and  my  father  as  well,  and  many  other  persons, 
both  of  the  worldly  and  of  the  spiritual  order,  of  whom  I  knew, 
had  been  obliged  to  endure  much  in  foreign  countries,  in  order 
to  learn  something.  The  next  morning,  refreshed  and  consoled, 
he  set  me  upon  my  way,  once  more  urgently  commending  me 
to  the  student's  care.  Thence  I  wandered  on  with  my  little 
pack,  along  the  hard  and  weary  and  unknown  way,  trotting 
ever  along  behind  the  student,  to  Nuremberg,  a  famous  seat  of 
trade  and  industry. 

Chapter  //. 

When  at  last  I  saw  from  the  distance  the  towers  and  the 
blue  smoke  of  Nuremberg,  it  almost  seemed  to  me  that  I  was 
looking,  not  at  a  single  city,  but  at  a  whole  world.  I  thought 
we  had  only  a  mile  to  go;  but  when  we  inquired  of  some  people 
whom  we  met  on  the  road  how  far  it  was,  they  replied  that  it 
was  still  three  miles.  It  was  not  so  much  the  distance  as  our 
impatient  desire  to  reach  the  city,  whose  image  lay  before  us  on 
the  horizon,  that  made  the  way  so  unwelcome.  In  order  to 
while  away  the  time,  the  student  related  some  incidents  tend- 
ing to  exalt  his  individual  prowess.  A  song  or  a  story  gener- 
ally causes  the  wanderer  to  -forget  the  tedium  of  the  way. 


JOHANNES   BUTZBACH.  203 

When  toward  evening  we  finally  approached  the  city,  we  halted 
a  little  while  under  the  walls,  to  prepare  us  for  our  entrance 
into  the  town.  The  student  sought  to  spoil  my  expectations 
with  his  witticisms:  "  Since  you  have  never  been  here  before,'* 
he  said  among  other  things,  "it  will  be  necessary  to  sew  up 
your  mouth."  When  the  tears  rose  in  my  eyes  at  this  remark, 
he  added:  "  Now  follow  me  close  behind  and  do  not  keep  look- 
ing to  this  side  and  to  that;  and  do  not  gape  at  the  house-tops 
with  open  mouth.  And  look  out  that  I  do  not  have  to  wait  for 
you  ever  now  and  then  in  the  street,  on  account  of  your  ever- 
lasting slowness,  or  when  we  come  to  the  inn  you  will  get  a 
good  thrashing." 

So  I  slunk  into  the  city  all  of  a  tremble,  exhausted  with  the 
effort  of  keeping  up  with  my  companion.  With  very  tired  and 
bruised  feet  I  followed  the  student  through  many  streets  paved 
with  sharp  stones,  while  from  all  sides  crowds  of  school  boys 
fell  upon  me.  Because  I  gave  no  answer  to  their  shout:  "  Are 
you  a  student?"  they  held  their  hands  to  their  foreheads, 
stretched  out  like  asses'  ears,  and  followed  me  in  this  manner 
all  the  way  to  the  inn.  When  they  learned,  however,  that  we 
intended  to  stop  in  the  city,  they  ceased  from  further  persecu- 
tions and  began  extolling  with  fulsome  praises  their  school 
above  all  other  schools  in  the  land. 

(Here  follow  various  adventures  of  travel). 
Chapter  16. 

When  we  arrived  at  a  village,  he  sent  me  on  to  beg,  and 
waited  for  me  at  the  further  end  of  the  place.  If  I  came  back 
with  empty  hands,  he  beat  me  furiously  and  cried:  "  Aha  !  by 
Heavens,  I  will  teach  you  to  beg  yet  !"  If,  however,  I  had 
succeeded  in  getting  something  choice,  he  devoured  it  at  once,, 
and  I  got  only  what  remained.  So  it  went  on  the  whole  time 
that  I  stayed  with  him.  Indeed,  he  was  so  suspicious  that  he 
often  forced  me  to  rinse  my  mouth  with  water  and  spit  it  out,, 
that  he  might  see  if  I  had  perhaps  appropriated  something  good 
from  my  begging;  for  it  often  happened  that  kindly  women,, 
moved  by  my  modesty  and  my  delicate  youth,  took  me  from  the 
street  into  their  houses,  and  when  they  had  listened  to  the 


204  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

story  of  my  misery  and  of  my  sad  parting  from  my  parents, 
they  were  moved  with  pity  and  gave  me  as  rich  refreshment  as 
their  own  children  enjoyed.  This  dissatisfied  the  student 
greatly,  on  account  of  his  envious  nature,  and  as  often  as  it 
came  to  his  knowledge  that  such  a  piece  of  fortune  had  hap- 
pened to  me  in  his  absence,  he  fell  upon  me  with  fist  and  stick. 

Chapter  77. 

He  compelled  me  to  beg  through  places  so  foul  and  muddy, 
that  I  was  obliged  to  wade  up  to  my  ankles,  sometimes  up  to 
my  knees  in  mud,  and  like  one  who  treads  dough,  could  go 
neither  forward  nor  backward.  Sometimes  I  was  attacked  so 
savagely  by  watch-dogs  that  I  believe,  if  the  inhabitants  had  not 
come  to  my  rescue,  I  should  have  been  torn  to  pieces.  The 
student  himself  had  a  great  dislike  for  begging  and  did  not 
practice  it,  recognizing  that  he  would  be  laughed  at  by  the 
peasant  people  as  a  great,  lazy  rascal,  and  he  did  not  care  to  soil 
himself  with  the  mud,  which  he  knew  was  very  deep  in  these 
places  during  the  rainy  weather.  Moreover,  in  order  not  to  be 
bothered  by  the  dogs,  it  was  his  habit  to  go  around  the  villages 
through  the  fields  and  meadows,  a  thing  which  he  could  not 
permit  me  to  do,  by  reason  of  my  begging.  This  custom  he 
adopted  on  the  other  side  of  Nuremberg,  and  held  rigidly  to  it 
until  we  came  nearly  to  the  town  of  Kaaden  in  Bohemia,  and 
afterwards  during  the  whole  of  the  remaining  time  that  I  was 
with  him  on  the  journey. 

In  Kaaden  we  were  invited  by  the  rector  of  the  school  to  take 
up  our  residence,  and  received  one  room  for  us  both  in  the 
bursary.  Shortly  thereafter  came  two  wandering  students  from 
Vienna  with  their  schiitzen,  and  were  shown  into  quarters  with 
us  during  the  day,  or  at  least  what  was  left  of  the  day,  after 
the  public  lesson,  the  chorus  and  the  begging.  I  stayed  in  our 
cell,  but  during  the  night  we  young  schutzen,  as  many  as  there 
were  of  us,  used  to  remain  in  the  common  room,  on  account  of 
the  cold,  and  sleep  on  a  wooden  platform  over  the  stove.  Once 
I  fell  off  the  platform,  and  although  I  did  quite  as  much  injury 
to  my  head  as  to  the  stove,  nevertheless  I  was  thought  to  de- 
serve a  severe  censure  on  account  of  the  damage  I  was  guilty  of. 


JOHANNES   BUTZBACH.  205 

Chapter  24.. 

( After  further  adventures  in  Bohemia  they  came  to  Eger,  where  they 
secured  positions  in  the  houses  of  certain  wealthy  citizens,  acting  as  tutors 
and  companions  to  the  sons  of  these  citizens,  and  receiving  board  and 
lodging  in  return). 

The  student  was  overjoyed  at  his  unexpected  good  fortune. 
My  own,  however,  which  seemed  to  him  even  better,  aroused 
his  envy  and  anger.  "  It  is  not  becoming, ' '  he  said  ' '  that  a 
schiitze  like  you  should  be  so  quickly  promoted  among  strangers, 
and  see  better  times  than  I  myself;"  and  since  he  had  no  longer 
any  need,  on  account  of  his  new  position,  of  my  services  in  beg- 
ging, he  handed  me  over  to  two  other  big  students,  for  whom 
I  was  to  forage  during  the  winter.  I  complained  of  this  to  the 
lad  who  had  been  entrusted  to  me,  and  he  told  his  parents, 
whereupon  they  advised  me  to  come  home  with  their  son  im- 
mediately after  school  and  let  the  others  go.  After  I  had  done 
this  a  few  times,  against  the  commands  of  the  student,  he 
caught  me  one  day  as  we  were  coming  from  school  and  to- 
gether with  his  companions  dragged  me  to  their  quarters,  where 
they  tore  the  clothes  from  my  body,  beat  me  for  a  long  time 
with  rods  upon  my  naked  skin,  and  then  left  me  tied  in  the 
room  in  the  severe  cold  until  the  next  day.  Next  morning  he 
asked  me  if  I  was  disposed  to  attend  to  my  duties  with  the 
students,  and  I  made  haste  to  answer  that  I  was.  Then  he  un- 
bound me,  turned  me  over  to  his  companions  with  threats  and 
curses,  and  went  his  way  to  his  dwelling. 

Chapter  25. 

Thus  was  my  lad  obliged  to  go  to  school  alone  that  morning. 
When  he  learned  what  had  happened  to  me,  he  hastened  to  ac- 
quaint his  parents  with  the  facts.  The  following  evening, 
when  we  had  returned  from  school,  I  related  to  them,  at  their 
request,  all  that  had  taken  place,  and  they  were  much  moved 
with  compassion  for  me.  They  ordered  me  to  remain  in  the 
house,  to  await  whatever  might  occur.  The  student,  however, 
when  he  became  aware,  both  from  complaints  of  his  fellow- 
students,  to  whom  he  had  sold  me,  and  from  my  absence  as  well, 
of  what  had  transpired,  fell  into  a  great  rage,  and  came  the  fol- 


206  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE  GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

lowing  morning  to  our  house,  together  with  a  great  company 
of  students  and  schutzen.  They  succeeded  in  making  their  way 
up  to  the  upper  story,  where  we  were,  when  the  father  op- 
posed them  with  weapons  in  his  hands,  let  drive  at  them  pro- 
miscuously, and  drove  them  out  of  the  house  and  court-yard, 
calling  after  them  that  they  should  not  presume  again  to  enter 
there. 

But  alas  for  me  !  After  this  occurrence  I  knew  not  which 
way  to  turn.  I  had  the  courage  neither  to  go  to  school  nor 
even  to  run  an  errand  out  of  doors,  because  my  students  sent 
me  word  that  they  would  tear  me  to  pieces,  if  they  could  catch 
me  anywhere.  Out  of  fear  I  gave  up  school,  fled  secretly  from 
the  city  and  betook  me  to  the  baths.*  There  I  served  the 
guests  at  an  inn  until  the  new  year,  when  I  was  kidnaped  by 
a  Bohemian  noble. 

Thus  was  I  forced,  through  the  cruelty  of  my  student,  to  give 
up  school  and  the  study  of  the  sciences,  since. I  could  no  longer 
endure  his  godless  treatment  of  me;  I,  who  had  been  so  urg- 
ently recommended  to  him  by  my  parents.  Neither  of  us  has 
met  the  other  face  to  face  since  that  time,  nor  have  I  ever 
learned  what  became  of  him.  At  the  baths,  however,  I  came 
across  two  schutzen,  who  formerly  had  shared  my  room  in  the 
bursa  at  Kaaden,  and  they  related  that  their  students  had  been 
hanged  for  theft,  committed  at  some  place  or  other.  Then  the 
thought  came  to  me,  that  something  of  the  kind  might  have 
happened  to  mine.  If  this  ever  came  to  pass  at  a  later  time — 
which  indeed  I  should  not  wish  to  happen — at  least  it  was  not 
necessary  that  he  should  have  degenerated,  for  his  father  came 
to  the  gallows  at  home  on  account  of  theft.  In  the  meantime 
I  have  heard,  that  after  my  departure  he  came  once  into  the 
neighborhood  of  our  native  place,  but  did  not  enter  the  town, 
both  on  account  of  his  shame,  because  his  father  had  been 
hanged,  and  because  he  had  lost  me.  His  friends,  to  whom  he 
contrived  to  send  word  secretly,  went  out  to  him,  and  with 
them  my  people,  who  had  learned  of  his  coming.  When  he 
was  unable  to  answer  their  pressing  inquiries  as  to  where  he 

*Carlsbad. 


JOHANNES   BUTZBACH.  207 

had  left  me,  and  became  involved  in  even  greater  contradictions, 
he  took  the  first  opportunity  of  getting  away  from  them,  and 
from  that  day  to  this  he  has  never  shown  himself  at  our  home. 
Behold,  you  have  before  you  all  the  misery  to  which  I  was 
exposed  from  my  seventh  to  my  twelfth  year  under  the  school- 
master's rod,  and  you  have  seen  what  fidelity  that  wretched 
student,  after  all  the  careful  recommendations  of  my  parents, 
exhibited  toward  me  in  the  midst  of  strangers.  May  the  al- 
mighty God  forgive  him  for  that  which  he  has  done.  Amen. 

(  The  second  Book  of  Butzbach's  narrative  contains  an  account  of  his 
adventures  among  the  heretics  of  Bohemia,  during  which  his  school  ex- 
periences were  wholly  interrupted.  He  succeeded  finally  in  returning 
home,  where  he  found  opportunity  of  resuming  his  studies  under  more 
favorable  conditions. 

Book  III.     Chapter  8. 

While  occupied  with  the  duties  and  exercises  of  a  lay 
brother,*  my  inclination  toward  the  higher  functions  of  the 
brethren  grew  apace,  and  I  deeply  bewailed  my  misfortune, 
that  I  had  been  obliged  to  give  up  my  studies.  This  did  not 
escape  the  attention  of  the  younger  brethren,  who  had  but  re- 
cently come  from  the  schools,  and  they  secretly  advised  me  to 
betake  myself  to  Deventer.  There  was  in  our  convent  an  elderly 
monk,  Peter  Schlarp  by  name,  a  very  diligent  and  learned  man, 
who  gave  me  a  letter  of  introduction  to  the  rector  of  the  high 
school  at  Deventer,  Alexander  Hegius. 

Fortified  with  this  letter  I  set  out,  although  the  abbot  inter- 
posed some  objections,  and  expressed  himself  as  having  no  con- 
fidence in  my  success.  In  the  preliminary  examinations  I  was 
unable  to  answer  the  questions  put  to  me,  but  because  they 
were  so  astonished  at  the  good  and  correct  Latin  of  my  letter 
of  introduction  I  was  put  into  the  seventh  grade,  where  I  set 
out  to  master  the  rudiments  of  grammar,  along  with  the  little 
boys.  But  through  want,  hunger  and  cold  I  came  into  such 
distress  that  I  was  obliged  again  to  give  up  the  studies  I  had 

*  Butzbach  had  been  accepted  as  lay  brother  in  the  monastery  of  St. 
John  the  Baptist  at  Johannisberp. 


208  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

undertaken.     With  a  few  comrades,  upon  whose  advice  I  acted ^ 

I  left  the  place.  Two  noble  lords,  Johann  G ,  who  after  wards 

died  of  the  pest,  and  his  brother  Frederick,  who  is  still  living, 
interceded  for  me,  and  I  was  taken  back  into  the  cloister,  al- 
though previous  to  this  I  had  laid  aside  the  garb  and  entered 
the  cloister  of  Eberbach,  unmindful  of  the  commands  of  the 
abbot  to  return.  This  cloister  is  said  to  have  been  founded  by 
St.  Bernard  at  the  time  when  he  was  in  that  region  as  imperial 
legate.  Thus  I  received  a  second  time  the  habit  of  the  order, 
and  a  further  departure,  or  a  continuation  of  my  studies,  was 
no  more  to  be  thought  of. 

In  a  quiet  way  I  had  about  reconciled  myself  to  remaining 
here  forever,  when  it  happened  one  day  that  I  had  occasion  to 
accompany  the  abbot  to  Frankfort.  Here  we  encountered  my 
mother.  She  had  heard  that  I  was  already  a  "  Lollard, "  had 
sought  me  in  the  cloister  and  had  followed  us  with  a  heart  full 
of  sorrow.  The  whole  day  she  interceded  with  the  abbot,  pray* 
ing  that  she  might  be  permitted  to  send  me  once  more  to  school. 
But  the  abbot  was  not  to  be  moved  with  the  most  urgent  en^ 
treaty.  When  my  mother  saw  that  she  could  accomplish  noth- 
ing in  this  way,  she  gave  me  money  secretly  and  made  me 
promise  that  upon  our  return  I  should  leave  the  cloister,  even 
against  the  abbot's  will. 

Chapter  g. 

We  returned  to  our  cloister.  I  had  not  the  courage  to  beg  for 
permission  to  go  forth.  Already  I  was  thoroughly  reconciled 
to  remaining  in  my  humble  condition.  Then  it  happened  that 
the  abbot,  disturbed  in  his  heart  by  the  woman's  entreaty,  came 
of  his  own  accord  to  me.  He  spoke  to  me  kindly,  and  said  that 
I  might  undertake  that  which  according  to  my  knowledge  and 
conscience  seemed  the  better  thing  to  do.  All  abashed  at  his 
graciousness,  I  confessed  my  fervent  love  for  the  sciences,  and 
the  desire,  which  had  always  animated  my  soul,  to  attain  to. 
the  higher  grades  of  the  order. 

Then  the  abbot  said:  "Go  hence  in  the  name  of  the  I^ord 
and  remain  ever  steadfast  in  thy  good  resolve.  Thy  mother's 
wish  shall  be  fulfilled.  Go  with  zeal  and  endurance  to  thy 


JOHANNES   BUTZBACH.  2Og 

studies  and  complete  them;  then  come  hither  and  the  order 
will  be  open  to  thee." 

So  for  the  third  time  I  left  the  cloister  and  betook  myself  to 
my  native  town.  I  was  a  welcome  guest  with  all  my  acquaint- 
ances; and  when  the  people  heard  that  I  was  going  once  more 
to  school,  there  were  certain  masters  who  applauded  my  resolve 
and  wished  me  luck.  Others,  on  the  contrary,  thought  I  was 
too  oM  and  laughed  at  me.  But  my  father  expressed  no  little 
joy  at  the  prospect,  and  gave  me  at  once  the  money  for  the 
journey.  Five  guilders  he  gave  me.  Moreover  he  knew  that 
my  mother  had  still  a  very  beautiful  piece  of  money,  which  she 
had  received  from  Hillig  when  he  became  engaged  to  her,  and 
he  urgently  demanded  I  should  have  that  too.  But  my  mother 
was  unwilling  to  give  it  up,  and  it  tended,  without  my  father's 
knowledge,  to  give  me  another  guilder  in  its  place.  Thereupon 
a  serious  quarrel  ensued  between  them,  the  result  of  which  was 
that  my  mother  was  soundly  beaten  and  her  hair  severely 
pulled.  When  I  saw  that,  I  threw  down  my  pack  and  the  rest 
of  my  money,  and  with  my  brothers  and  sisters  rushed  to  my' 
mother's  aid,  against  my  father.  I  succeeded  in  dragging  her 
from  under  his  feet.  Weeping  bitterly,  I  left  the  house,  and 
reg'stered  with  myself  a  vow  that  after  such  occurrences,  I 
would  never  again  set  foot  in  any  school,  nor  would  I  even  go 
back  to  the  cloister.  Meanwhile  my  father's  anger  had  sub- 
sided, and  when  he  came  back  once  more  to  his  senses,  unable 
to  endure  the  stings  of  conscience,  he  ran  through  the  village 
in  search  of  me.  When  at  last  he  found  me,  he  begged  me  in  the 
agony  of  his  spirit,  not  to  abandon  my  design.  I  might  for- 
give him  his  offence,  since  he  had  done  wrong  through  his 
effort  to  further  my  plans.  I  should  be  reconciled  and  go  on 
with  my  undertaking,  which  had  given  him  so  much  pleasure. 
Thereupon  he  handed  me  the  guilder  obtained  with  so  many 
blows,  and  I  accepted  it  for  the  sake  of  peace,  meaning  secretly 
to  return  it  to  my  mother  at  a  later  opportunity,  when  she  ac- 
companied me  to  the  boat. 

Finally,  I  tore  myself  away.  Our  boat  sailed  down  the  Main 
and  onwards  down  the  Rhine.  We  changed  masters  both  at 
Mainz  and  Cologne.  Unusually  favorable  winds  filled  our  sails, 


210  SOURCE-BOOK  OF  THE  GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

and  after  nine  days  we  landed  at  Deventer.  Again  I  was  ex- 
amined by  the  rector,  and  put  into  the  eighth  grade.  There  I 
sat  beside  six  other  grown-up  schoolmates,  who  in  conse- 
quence of  an  insurrection  had  taken  to  study  through  fear;  be- 
cause a  few  days  before  our  arrival  a  mob  of  seven  thousand 
insurgents,  who  held  a  city  in  siege,  had  been  overwhelmed  by 
the  Bishop  of  Maestricht  and  the  Duke  of  Gueldres.  A  hun- 
dred of  them  had  been  condemned  to  death.  These  were  exe- 
cuted on  the  day  of  my  arrival  and  on  the  two  days  preceding, 
and  I  saw  them  still  lying  on  the  wheels.  Of  these  schoolmates 
just  mentioned,  who  entered  upon  their  studies  more  out  of 
fear  than  from  any  thirst  for  knowledge,  only  a  few  were  stead- 
fast. For  the  most  part  they  were  too  slow  of  understanding 
and  made  no  progress,  while  I  strove  night  and  day  by  diligent 
application  to  acquire  a  better  degree  of  information. 

Chapter  10. 

It  was  not  long  before  my  classmates  were  dismissed.  One 
of  them,  however,  sat  for  four  years  in  the  same  grade  and 
scarcely  learned  to  read,  notwithstanding  he  dwelt  with  the 
teacher  of  his  class,  and  had  gone  to  considerable  expense;  but 
with  no  result.  For  my  part,  I  had  been  in  the  eighth  grade 
but  a  short  time  when  I  was  permitted  to  pass  over  the  seventh 
and  to  enter  the  sixth  grade,  and  from  this  I  came  at  Easter 
into  the  fifth.  At  that  time  I  secured  a  place  with  the  Brethren 
in  the  relief  house,  where  only  those  from  the  fifth  grade  up- 
ward were  received,  and  then  only  on  condition  that  they  in- 
tended to  become  monks.  Moreover  I  was  free  to  visit  the 
house  of  a  canon  in  the  town,  who  was  also  provost  at  Ziitphen, 
when  I  was  in  need;  for  before  my  entrance  into  the  brother- 
hood house,  while  I  dwelt  in  the  city  at  the  house  of  a  very 
pious  maiden  lady,  I  had  the  opportunity,  on  several  occasions, 
to  be  of  service  to  the  canon,  by  lending  a  helping  hand  to  his 
sewing-people,*  and  on  one  occasion  to  the  chief  of  his  house- 
hold. In  addition  to  this  I  had  made  several  other  acquaint- 

*  After  his  return  from  Bohemia,  Butzbach  had  been  apprenticed  to  a 
tailor. 


JOHANNES   BTJTZBACH.  21 1 

ances,  who  were  favorably  disposed  toward  me,  and  in  time  of 
need  and  suffering  gave  me  much  aid  and  comfort. 

During  this  time  I  had  to  struggle  against  many  and  various 
difficulties  in  the  way  of  ill-health  and  sickness;  so  that  at 
times,  in  spite  of  all  my  eagerness  for  knowledge,  I  was  half 
persuaded  to  give  up  the  attempt.  It  seemed  to  me  that  never 
before,  up  to  this  time,  had  I  been  obliged  to  contend  with  such 
an  insalubrious  climate  and  such  a  raw  atmosphere  as  in  this 
place,  whereby  I  was  persecuted  day  by  day  with  all  kinds  of 
torments  and  sickness,  so  continuously  that  I  began  to  think 
seriously  of  hanging  my  studies  on  the  nail  and  takicg  up  again 
my  old  trade,  if  only  to  get  away  from  this  region  and  from  its 
inhabitants.  Now  it  was  burning  fevers,  now  tumorous  affec- 
tions, which  threatened  my  life.  Next  came  the  quinsy,  com- 
plicated with  a  swelling  of  the  larynx;  then  the  itch,  and  indeed 
in  so  horrible  a  form  that  my  whole  skin  was  stiff  from  it.  In 
addition  to  this  I  often  suffered  from  boils  on  various  portions 
of  my  body.  Then  too  I  had  a  swelling  of  the  feet,  and  often 
for  considerable  periods  a  swelling  of  the  thigh.  Finally  I  got 
help  from  a  woman  who  possessed  a  knowledge  of  the  art  of 
healing.  With  an  iron  instrument  she  cut  out  the  swelling 
from  my  thigh,  which  she  called  a  "rose."  I  was  almost 
crazed  with  the  pain  of  the  operation.  Moreover  I  lived  in 
constant  fear  lest  some  misfortune,  of  which  they  at  home  were 
also  fearful,  should  overtake  me.  Almost  never  did  I  feel  my- 
self secure,  and  when,  as  it  often  happens,  the  outbreak  of  a 
war  was  apprehended,  I  feared  lest  I  should  be  obliged  to  re- 
turn home  before  the  completion  of  my  studies,  still  ignorant  of 
the  sciences,  an  object  of  ridicule  to  those  who  were  of  the 
opinion  I  would  derive  no  benefit  from  my  studies,  and  who, 
when  I  went  seriously  about  it,  looked  upon  me  as  insane. 
Moreover,  it  was  daily  rumored  that  the  pest  was  at  hand.  At 
the  outbreak  of  the  pest  or  of  war  it  was  the  custom  to  send 
scholars  out  of  the  town.  Furthermore,  I  suffered  much  from 
an  itching  malady,  called  "  fig- warts,"  which  covered  the  body 
like  the  bark  of  an  oak  tree.  Moreover,  I  was  constantly 
pestered  with  many  other  untoward  conditions,  with  which  the 
enemy,  with  divine  permission,  overwhelmed  me,  in  order  to 


212  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

bring  me  from  my  undertaking,  if  such  were  possible.  Strength- 
ened, however,  with  the  instructions  of  the  pious  Brethren  of 
the  Common  Life,  who  interested  themselves  in  the  affairs  of 
scholars  with  so  much  affection  and  with  so  much  success;  for- 
tified also  with  the  consolations  of  pious  people,  I  overcame, 
thank  God,  all  these  tribulations  with  patience,  and  put  to 
shame  the  treacherous  enemy  with  all  his  machinations. 

Chapter  //. 

Now  that  all  these  sufferings  have  been  lived  down,  I  dwell 
upon  them  in  my  thoughts  with  much  pleasure,  becaus  I  be- 
lieve that  they  were  all  sent  me  for  the  purification  and  ad- 
vancement of  my  s  ul.  Five  times,  however,  it  happened,  that 
at  the  instigation  of  others  I  was  on  the  point  of  giving  up  my 
studies  and  returning  home.  It  even  went  so  far  at  oi;e  time- 
it  was  a  year  after  my  arrival  and  I  was  then  Quintanus — that 
one  morning  I  made  my  preparations  to  depart  in  company  with 
certain  comrades.  Suddenly,  on  the  evening  of  the  same  day, 
the  swelling  of  my  feet  and  the  abscess,  of  which  I  have  spoken, 
attacked  me.  A  journey  under  the  circumstances  was  out  of  the 
question.  I  remained  and  was  promoted  to  the  fourth  grade. 
Now  I  thank  God  for  this  dispensation.  Had  I  departed  at 
that  time  no  one  wou'd  have  been  able  ever  to  induce  me  to  re- 
turn to  so  much  misery. 

Two  reasons  in  particular  ma}'  be  adduced,  which  determined 
me  to  hold  out  and  bound  me  fast  to  the  sciences:  my  father's 
desire,  while  he  was  still  living;  and  the  prophecy,  if  I  may 
call  it  so,  of  certain  persons,  that  I  should  some  time  become  a 
priest.  The  former  was  expressed  at  home;  the  latter  at 
Johannisberg,  while  I  was  there  as  lay  brother  and  cloister 
tailor;  for  on  a  certain  occasion,  while  I  was  sitting  at  my  woik 
and  engaged  in  confidential  discourse  vith  an  elderly  and  in- 
valid father,  for  whose  care  and  service  I  was  dai  y  responsib'e; 
and  while  I  was  telling  him  how  greatly  to  ni}'  sorrow  I  had 
been  obliged,  as  a  lad,  to  give  up  my  studies — while,  as  I  say, 
I  was  telling  my  story  and  lamenting  that  nothing  had  c^tne 
out  of  my  earlier  studies  and  my  desire  to  become  a  priesl,  a 
certain  piece  of  round  bread,  which  we  call  the  host,  and  which 


JOHA.NNBS   BUTZBACH.  213 

I  had  fastened  to  the  wall  over  against  my  work-table,  out  of 
devotional  feeling  and  from  a  desire  to  guard  against  the  temp- 
tatio  s  to  which  the  vigorous  period  of  youth  is  especially  sub- 
ject, and  also  to  have  a  remembrance  of  the  sufferings  of  our 
Lord  always  before  my  eyes,  this  piece  of  bread,  I  say,  to  our 
great  amazement,  detached  itself  from  the  wall  and  fell  to  the 
floor.  As  the  old  man,  who  with  shaking  head  sat  behind  the 
stove,  perctived  this,  he  stood  up,  in  spite  of  the  senile  weak- 
ness which  weighed  so  heavily  upon  him,  and  in  a  loud  voice 
exclaimed:  "  See,  Brother  Johannes  !  This  is  without  doubt  a 
sign  to  thee  of  thy  future  priesthood  !  Thou  shalt  no  longer 
doubt;  but  of  a  truth  believe,  that,  when  thou  givest  thyself 
again  to  study,  this  thing  which  has  just  happened  shall  have 
the  meaning  I  have  ascribed  to  it." 

He  also  foretold  the  day  and  the  hour  of  his  death,  and  even 
after  he  was  dead  the  brethren  called  him  back  to  life,  to  make 
his  confession. 

His  word  I  never  forgot.  A  year  passed  before  I  again  gave 
myself  to  study,  and  with  my  parents'  help  returned  to  school, 
and  with  God's  grace  and  with  the  help  of  the  blessed  Virgin 
Mary,  within  four  years  according  to  the  prophecy  I  became 
monk  and  priest.  Now  may  this  benefaction  of  God  redound 
to  the  salvation  of  my  soul,  unworthy  that  I  am,  and  the  souls 
of  my  people,  and  to  the  glory  of  God  !  That  is  my  most 
urgent  wish. 

Chapter  12. 

The  same  was  once  said  to  my  mother  by  a  priest,  a  very 
worthy  man  and  pastor  in  the  town  of  Aschaffenburg,  where 
once  upon  a  time  he  brought  me  a  chasuble  to  be  repaired  and 
heard  the  deep  sigh  I  uttered  to  God,  as  I  tried  it  on  and  said: 
"  Would  that  I  too  could  be  a  priest."  Furthermore,  my  con- 
tinuance at  study  was  largely  due  to  my  late  father's  desire, 
who,  living  and  dying,  had  expressed  this  as  his  especial  wish. 
For  this  reason,  during  his  life,  be  sent  me  to  school,  and  on 
his  deathbed  he  impressed  this  strongly  upon  my  mother's 
mind.  After  his  death,  when  I  had  given  up  the  tailor's  trade 
and  was  taking  counsel  with  our  friends,  in  reference  to  going 


214  SOURCE-BOOK   OP  THE  GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

back  to  school,  the  following  occurred:  One  morning,  as  my 
brother  Kuiiz  and  I  arose  and  were  dressing,  my  father's  spirit, 
just  as  he  was  in  life,  appeared  in  front  of  our  room,  remained 
standing  a  little  time  in  the  open  doorway,  and  looked  at  me  in 
an  appealing  wa)',  as  though  he  would  say  to  me  that  I  should 
carry  out  my  plan,  which  had  been  for  so  long  his  dearest  wish 
without  fear  of  hesitation.  More  than  anything  else  was  this 
occurrence  a  spur  to  my  zeal  and  it  impelled  me  to  persevere  in 
iny  studies.  If,  indeed,  I  had  been  in  some  respects  too  little 
obedient  to  my  father  in  his  lifetime,  now  I  desired  to  make 
amends,  since  he  so  earnestly  desired  that  I  should  be  a  priest. 
God  grant  that  now,  when  I  am  one,  it  may  contribute  to  the 
repose  of  his  soul ! 

After  this  digression  I  shall  now  take  up  the  thread  of  my 
narrative,  and  I  wish  to  occupy  some  little  space  with  the  praise 
of  Deventer  itself,  where  I  endured  all  the  privations  which  I 
have  mentioned. 

The  people  are  wonderfully  kind  toward  the  poor,  to  an  ex- 
tent which  I  have  observed  nowhere  else;  and  pious  withal  and 
much  attached  to  religion.  At  the  same  time  the  town,  by 
reason  of  its  extensive  trade  with  countries  across  the  sea  and 
with  Holland  and  Zealand,  is  extraordinarily  wealthy.  May  I 
be  set  down  as  a  falsifier,  if  I  have  not  known  a  citizen  of  the 
place,  a  great  benefactor  toward  me  aud  toward  other  poor  peo- 
ple, who  gave  his  daughter,  upon  the  occasion  of  her  marriage, 
a  dowry  of  seventeen  thousand  guilders  in  hard  cash.  This 
same  citizen's  wife  was  also  a  very  upright  woman  and  won- 
derfully charitable  toward  the  poor  and  toward  strangers.  No 
day  passed  that  5he  did  not  invite  some  six  or  seven  needy 
clergymen  to  her  well-furnished  table,  not  to  speak  of  the  alms 
which  she  was  constantly  giving  to  other  poor  men  at  her  door. 
The  kindness  which  this  estimable  woman  showed  me  at  the 
time  of  my  sickness  and  need  was  truly  remarkable,  whether 
it  be  in  the  way  of  food,  clothing  and  money,  or  with  her  cheer- 
ing conversation.  She  and  her  family  truly  deserve  to  be  rich, 
for  they  are  not,  as  is  the  case  with  so  many  rich  people,  proud 
or  miserly,  nor  do  they  place  their  trust  upon  the  volume  of 
their  riches,  but,  gentle,  generous  and  pitiful  toward  the  prayers 


JOHANNES   BUTZBAGH.  215 

of  the  poor,  they  set  their  hopes  upon  God.     And  this  noble 
city  has  many  more  such  God-fearing  people. 

In  addition  to  this  it  possesses  an  excellent  constitution  and 
a  well-regulated  government.  Alexander  Hegius,  formerly  di- 
rector of  the  high  school  at  Deventer,  has  sung  the  praises  of 
the  city  in  the  following  brief  verses,  which  are  moreover  his 
latest  composition: 

"  Of  the  piety  of  Deventer 
Through  the  town  the  rumor  goes. 
I  esteem  it  worth  the  riches 
Which  there  everywhere  abound. 
There  the  peasant  is  protected, 
And  the  robber  feels  the  law. 
There  each  man  receives  what  bounty, 
Horse  or  foot,  to  him  is  due. 
Ever  full  may  stand  the  treasure, 
Never  touched  by  faction's  hand. 
Thus  we  pray,  both  youth  and  elder, 
Night  and  day  for  native  land. 

As  its  patron  saint  the  city  reverences  the  holy  confessor 
Leivin,  once  a  monk  of  our  order,  and  a  pupil  of  St.  Willibrod. 
In  his  honor  was  built  a  beautiful  church,  wherein  his  bones, 
together  with  those  of  certain  other  saints,  as  for  example  St. 
Margaret,  whose  remains  were  brought  from  Rome,  and  St. 
Rathbod,  bishop  of  Maestricht,  and  many  others,  have  been 
decently  laid  to  rest  in  a  costly  chest.  The  holy  Leivin  came 
from  England,  and  was  the  first  who  won  this  land  to  the 
Christian  faith.  He  dwelt  on  the  Yssel,  a  tributary  of  the 
Rhine,  and  even  at  the  present  day  his  house  is  shown  by  peo- 
ple dwelling  in  that  neighborhood;  although  in  truth,  its  ap- 
pearance has  much  changed. 

Besides  the  markets  which  are  held  at  Deventer  at  various 
times  of  the  year,  the  city  has  another  advantage,  whereby  it 
has  become  famous,  and  rightfully  so,  far  and  wide,  beyond  all 
other  cities  of  this  region.  This  is  due  to  its  Latin  school,  re- 
nowned for  a  long  time  past,  which,  under  the  supervision  of 
men  of  culture  and  ability,  for  a  long  time  enjoyed  great  pros- 
perity on  account  of  its  cultivation  of  the  humanities.  After 


2l6          SOURCE- BOOK   OP  THE  GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

the  death  of  Alexander  Hegius,  of  whom  I  have  spoken  above, 
.a  man  of  the  profoundest  learning,  versed  in  three  languages, 
;and  withal  a  philosopher  and  poet,  who  died  in  the  5Tear  of  our 
Lord  1498,  the  first  year  of  my  student  life  in  Deventer — since 
that  time  (with  sorrow  I  chronicle  the  fact),  the  school  has  de- 
clined greatly,  as  reports  from  there  inform  me. 

That  was  indeed  a  man  worthy  of  all  praise,  as  in  fact  he  has 
been  so  deservedly  extolled,  both  living  and  since  his  death,  by 
many  distinguished  men.  Like  a  brilliant  light  he  shone  above 
the  people  through  his  uprightness,  his  comprehensive  knowl- 
edge and  his  great  gifts,  superior  to  all  his  learned  contem- 
poraries. His  former  pupil,  the  illustrious  Desiderius  Erasmus, 
in  his  Adages,  pays  high  tribute  to  the  great  teacher.  The  ac- 
complished Rudolph  Agricola,  in  his  time  rector  of  the  Uni- 
versity of  Heidelberg,  and  Johann  von  Dalberg,  the  cultured 
bishop  of  Worms,  celebrated  his  brilliant  gifts.* 

Chapter  /j. 

The  school  at  Deventer  has  been  of  great  value  to  the  re- 
formed orders,  insomuch  as  it  has  supplied  them  with  many 
educated  and  scholarly  men.  So  long  as  the  school  preserved 
its  merited  reputation,  by  means  of  good,  thorough  instruction 
and  fundamental  erudition,  its  graduates  were  everywhere 
eagerly  sought.  At  that  time  you  might  see  the  better-pre- 
pared scholars  and  those  best  grounded  in  the  humanities 
streaming  into  the  orders  at  Deventer  and  at  Zwoll;  and  they 
were  superior  material  to  that  which  I  now  find  in  the  first  and 
second  classes;  although  at  present  they  read,  it  is  true,  a  better 
selection  of  authors  ia  the  schools  than  formerly.  For  I  have 
heard  it  remarked,  that  outside  of  the  Parables  of  Alanus,  the 
Morals  and  the  Ethics  of  Cato,  the  Fables  of  ^Esop  and  a  few 
writers  of  this  type,  for  whom  they  have  very  little  respect  at 
present,  it  was  seldom  that  anything  else  was  read.  On  the 
other  hand,  a  strong  effort  was  made  to  broaden  the  studet  t's 
mind  by  means  of  an  inflexible  industry,  which  yielded  not  to 
the  greatest  difficulties.  Now,  however,  when  all  secondary 

*  Here  follow  selections  from  the  poems  of  eminent  humanists,  written 
in  honor  of  Hegius. 


JOHANNES   BUTZBACH.  2iy 

schools,  even  the  least  important,  are  filled  with  the  various 
admirable  works  of  old  and  new  classical  writers,  both  prose 
and  poetry,  the  ardor  is  nevertheless  weakened,  and  students 
for  the  most  part  apply  themselves  to  their  work  like  the  donkey 
to  his  lyre,  as  the  Greeks  say,  6v°f  nP°s  x^-wy-  All-devouring 
time  permits  nothing  to  endure.  Hence  the  phenomenon  that 
the  orders  began  to  decline  as  the  school  approached  its  down- 
ward path.  Still,  since  the  reformation  of  the  orders,  which  is 
not  yet  a  hundred  years  old  in  any  cloister,  they  say  that  many 
men  of  intellect  have  been  sent  forth  from  this  school,  who 
have  been  received  and  provided  for  in  the  various  cloisters  of 
this  section  of  Germany. 

But  it  is  time  to  return  to  my  previous  narrative.  I  must 
close  with  what  I  have  already  said  of  Deventer;  moreover, 
these  things  are  well  known  to  those  who  have  devoted  them 
selves  to  the  various  branches  of  learning,  and  have  laid  the 
foundations  of  a  wider  culture.  Many  such — with  joy  I  chron- 
icle the  fact— share  with  me  here  the  holy  service  and  bear  the 
yoke  of  the  Lord.  Some  have  returned  to  the  wrorld's  turmoil. 
But  this  digression,  into  v\hich  my  love  and  my  enthusiasm  for 
the  times  gone  by  have  led  me,  has  been  more  extensive  than 
I  intended.  Let  us  finally  resume  the  course  of  our  narrative. 

Chapter  14, 

I  remained  a  half-year  in  the  fifth  class,  under  the  guidance 
of  an  excellent  man,  Master  Gottfried,  a  Baccalaureus  of  both 
laws  and  Master  of  Arts.  After  an  examination  I  rose  to  the 
fourth  class,  where  I  passed  a  year  under  the  industrious  and 
well-instructed  Master  Johann  von  Venray,  and  with  his  per- 
mission, although  I  hardly  deserved  it,  I  came  into  the  third 
class.  This  dass  was  at  that  time  under  the  charge  of  Master 
Bartholomew  of  Cologne,  an  unusually  industrious  and  learned 
man.  His  waitings,  as  well  in  prose  as  in  verse,  are  admired 
by  the  greatest  scholars  and  most  highly  praised  ;  for  he  is  a 
man  of  fine,  broad  mind,  and  of  wonderful  eloquence,  and 
withal  distinguished  in  many  branches  of  knowledge.  It 
seemed  very  strange  to  everybody  that  a  man  of  his  ability, 
versed  in  all  departments  of  science,  should  keep  to  his  studies, 


2l8  SOURCE-BOOK  OF  THE  GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

like  a  perfect  ignoramus,  with  tireless  industry  deep  into  the 
night.  He  was  fond  of  industrious  pupils  and  very  cheerfully 
did  for  them  what  they  desired;  wherefore  the  energetic  and 
zealous  pupils,  so  far  as  I  know,  regarded  him  with  so  much 
love  that,  after  they  had  devoted  themselves  to  philosophic 
studies  for  several  years  in  succession  under  so  good  a  master 
and  reader,  and  finally  came  to  go  away,  they  could  hardly 
tear  themselves  from  him.  Although  he  indeed  deserved  it, 
yet  he  had  never  been  honored  by  any  university  with  the 
master's  degree.  For  this  reason  he  is  at  the  present  day  a 
thorn  in  the  side  of  many  blockheads,  who  are  proud  of  their 
empty  titles,  and  his  works  have  been  criticised  and  unfavor- 
ably regarded  as  mere  school  exercises.  In  the  meantime,  as 
a  true  and  genuine  philosopher,  he  concerns  himself  not  at  all 
with  such  people,  whose  science  consists  merely  in  an  empty 
title  and  certain  externals,  like  a  camel  decked  in  purple.  It 
is  indeed  better  to  possess  the  reality  of  knowledge  than  an 
empty  name.  What  is  a  name  without  the  thing  itself?  Of 
what  avail  are  titles  without  ability  ?  What  avails  an  honor 
without  the  capacity  ?  A  characterization  without  the  fact  ? 
Nowadays  when  any  one,  even  without  industry,  has  gone 
through  his  period  of  study,  whether  he  knows  anything  of  the 
essentials  or  not,  it  is  an  easy  thing  for  him,  by  means  of  a 
present,  to  acquire  the  bachelor's  degree,  or  the  dignity  of 
master  or  doctor.  Our  teacher  Bartholomew  for  his  part  held 
to  the  ideas  of  the  ancients;  he  despised  every  modern  usage, 
and  valued  an  earnest  career  of  study  more  than  empty  splen- 
dor. A  cultured  spirit  was  to  him  more  than  a  brow  bedecked. 
What  value  has  the  red  beretta,  when  within  the  spirit  is 
shrouded  in  the  darkness  of  ignorance  ?  In  any  case  knowl- 
edge without  the  title  is  more  to  be  valued  than  the  mere  title, 
in  which  so  many  rejoice,  without  the  knowledge.  But  of  this 
I  have  more  to  say  elsewhere. 

When,  as  I  have  already  remarked,  I  came  to  this  highly 
cultivated  philosopher  in  the  third  class,  I  made  up  my  mind 
to  remain  until  Easter,  when  I  would  go  home  and  thence, 
with  my  parents'  permission,  back  to  Johannesberg  in  the 
Rheingau,  whence  I  had  gone  forth,  at  my  mother's  urgent 


JOHANNES   BUTZBACH.  219 

request,  and  upon  the  encouragement  of  the  brethren,  to  my 
studies.  I  wished  to  see  whether  I  might  assume  the  higher 
garb  of  our  order,  instead  of  that  humbler  garment,  which  I 
had  put  aside,  and  be  received  into  the  circle  of  the  fathers. 
Scarcely  had  I  been  six  weeks  in  the  class,  however,  when  it 
happened  that  the  worthy  father  steward  of  the  island  of  Nied- 
erwerth  near  Coblenz  came  to  Deventer.  Besides  the  other 
business  with  which  he  was  commissioned,  he  had  been  re- 
quested by  our  distinguished  lord,  the  Abbot  of  I,aach,  to  bring 
with  him  several  scholars,  who  were  willing  to  serve  the  Lord 
in  that  cloister,  of  which  he  had  been  already  ten  years  the 
head,  under  his  secure  guidance,  in  the  monkish  garb,  accord- 
ing to  the  rule.  When  he  had  presented  his  letters,  addressed 
to  the  rector,  he  also  expressed  his  solicitude  concerning  this 
matter  in  the  house  of  the  Brethren.  Moreover  in  other  towns 
of  this  region,  where  his  business  took  him,  he  made  careful 
inquiries  in  schools,  bursaries  and  brotherhood  houses,  as  well 
as  with  private  citizens;  seeking  young  clerks,  so-called,  en- 
dowed with  a  sufficient  knowledge  of  the  sciences,  and  disposed 
to  leave  their  further  study  for  the  sake  of  God's  service,  in 
order  to  devote  themselves  to  the  life  of  the  cloister  and  to  the 
investigation  of  holy  writ.  Something  like  three  weeks  elapsed, 
and  as  yet  he  had  found  no  one  who  wished  to  accept  his  offer. 
Returning  to  Deventer,  he  considered  it  advisable  to  seek"  the 
cooperation  of  the  rector,  Master  Ostendorp,  who,  as  an  elo- 
quent and  learned  man,  had  succeeded  the  aforesaid  Alexander 
in  the  government  of  the  school.  Master  Ostendorp  came  at 
once  to  the  third  and  fourth  classes,  and  sought  with  eloquent 
words,  such  as  stood  to  his  command,  to  awaken  enthusiasm 
among  the  scholars  for  the  monastic  life.  First  he  spoke  in 
praise  of  the  Benedictines,  then  he  spoke  in  terms  of  highest 
approbation  of  the  abbey  of  Laach,  as  well  as  of  the  merit  of  its 
abbot.  But  all  effort  seemed  in  vain,  so  far  as  the  scholars 
were  concerned,  for  the  lectures  had  already  begun,  and  the 
auditors  were  inscribed  with  their  new  instructors.  In  many 
cases  the  lessons  of  the  new  classes  had  been  begun,  and  the 
honoraria  already  discharged  to  the  new  instructors  for  the 
semester,  and  it  was  thought  shameful  and  unbecoming  to  de- 


220  SOURCE-BOOK   OP  THE  GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

mand  these  back  from  the  rector  and  from  the  professors. 
Moreover,  each  one  had  already  made  his  provision  for  food 
and  lodging,  and  did  not  care  to  let  these  things  go.  Further- 
more, it  was  an  unsuitable  time  for  traveling;  a  very  great  cold 
prevailed,  which  frightened  every  one  from  the  project. 
(Butzbach,  however  after  much  deliberation,  accepted  the  offer  and 
made  the  tedious  winter  journey  up  the  Rhine  to  Laac/it  of  which 
abbey  he  eventually  became  the  head.) 

THOMAS  PLATTER.* 

Thomas  Platter,  1499-1582,  affords  another  example  of  the  strong 
general  impulse  toward  intellectual  advancement  which  characterizes  the 
eve  of  the  Protestant  Reformation  in  Germany.  Born  in  Switzerland,  in 
the  canton  of  Wallis,  Platter  obtained  the  rudiments  of  his  education  at 
Schlettstadt,  in  the  upper  P  hine  country.  Successively  rope-maker,  proof- 
reader, publisher  and  finally  chosen  rector  of  the  city  school  of  Zurich, 
Platter,  like  Butzbach,  ever  displayed  an  ardor  in  the  pursuit  of  learning, 
which  no  obstacles  nor  temporary  interruptions  of  his  course  of  study 
were  able  to  extinguish.  Led  away  in  childhood  upon  a  course  of  men- 
dicancy and  thievery,  he  came  unscathed  through  these  adverse  ex- 
periences, retaining  only  an  inflexible  desire  for  that  culture  of  which 
his  wanderings  had  afforded  so  meagre  a  foretaste.  A  follower  of  the 
Zurich  reformer,  Platter  took  an  active  part  in  the  struggles  of  the 
Zwinglian  party,  became  one  of  the  leaders  in  Swiss  Protestant  life,  and 
died  full  of  years  and  honors. 

THE  BACCHANTENSCHUTZ. 

When  they  would  no  longer  let  me  herd  the  goats  I  went  to 
a  fanner  who  had  married  one  of  my  cousins,  a  miserly  and  ill- 
tempered  man.  I  had  to  herd  his  cows,  for  in  most  places  in 
Wallis  there  were  no  common  c^w-herds;  and  whoever  had  no 
mountain  pasture,  whither  he  might  conduct  his  cattle  in  sum- 
mer, kept  a  herder  for  them,  who  pastured  them  on  his  em- 
ployer's property.  After  I  had  been  there  for  a  while  my 
cousin  Fransy  came,  and  wished  to  take  me  to  my  cousin, 
Master  Antoni  Platter,  in  order  that  I  might  learn  my  letters, 
as  they  say,  when  they  put  anyone  in  school.  This  cousin 
Antoni  was  no  longer  stationed  at  Grenchen,  but  at  the  church 
of  St.  Nicholas,  in  the  village  they  call  Gassen.  When  the 

*  Thomas  nnd  Felix  Platter,  bearbeitet  von  H.  Boos.     Leipzig,  1878. 


THOMAS   PLATTER.  221 

farmer,  who  was  called  Antscho  (that  is  Antoni)  an  der  Hab- 
zucht,  heard  my  cousin's  intention,  lie  was  much  dissatisfied. 
He  said  I  would  learn  nothing;  and  putting  the  index  finger 
of  his  right  hand  into  the  palm  of  his  left,  he  added:  "  He  will 
no  more  learn  than  I  can  poke  my  finger  through  my  palm." 
I  saw  and  heard  this.  Then  my  cousin  replied:  "But  who 
can  say  ?  God  has  not  denied  him  gifts.  He  might  become  an 
excellent  priest."  So  she  took  me  to  the  master.  I  was,  I 
think,  about  nine  or  nine  and  a  half  years  old.  At  first  it  was 
very  unpleasant  for  me,  because  the  master  was  a  high-tem- 
pered man,  and  I  an  awkward  peasant  lad.  He  beat  me  sav- 
agely, seized  me  often  by  the  ears  and  drew  me  from  the 
hearth,  so  that  I  shrieked  like  a  goat  with  the  knife  at  his 
throat,  and  the  neighbors  often  cried  out  against  him,  that  he 
would  murder  me. 

I  did  not  stay  long  with  him.  About  this  time  there  came 
along  another  cousin,  who  had  been  away  to  school  in  Ulm  and 
Munich  and  Bavaria.  He  was  a  Summermatter,  son  of  my  old 
grandfather's  son.  This  student  was  named  Paulus  Summer- 
matter.  When  my  relatives  spoke  to  him  of  me,  he  promised 
to  take  me  with  him  and  put  me  to  school  in  Germany.  As  I 
learned  of  this  I  fell  upon  my  knees  and  prayed  to  God  the  Al- 
mighty, that  he  would  deliver  me  from  the  parson,  who  had 
taught  me  just  nothing  at  all,  but  had  beat  me  sore;  for  all  I 
had  learned  was  to  sing  the  Salve  for  eggs,  along  with  other 
pupils,  who  were  also  at  the  parson's,  in  the  village.  One  time 
we  thought  we  would  perform  a  mass;  so  the  other  youngsters 
sent  me  into  the  church  for  a  candle,  which  I  stuck  all  lighted 
into  my  sleeve  and  burned  me,  so  that  I  bear  the  mark  of  it  to 
this  day. 

When  the  time  came  for  Paulus  to  set  out  again  upon  his 
wanderings,  I  was  to  join  him  at  Stalden.  Near  Stalden  is  a 
house  called  "The  Muhlbach."  There  dwelt  a  man,  called 
Simon  zu  der  Summermatter,  my  mother's  brother,  who  was 
supposed  to  be  my  guardian.  He  gave  me  a  golden  florin, 
which  I  carried  in  my  hand  all  the  way  to  Stalden,  and  often 
on  the  way  I  looked  to  see  if  I  still  had  it;  and  there  I  gave  it 
over  to  Paulus,  and  thus  we  went  forth  from  home. 


222  SOURCE-BOOK  OF  THE   GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

I  had  to  beg  now  for  myself  and  also  to  provide  for  my 
bacchant,  Paulus;  and  on  account  of  my  simpleness  and  rustic 
speech  people  gave  me  freely.  When  at  evening  we  crossed  the 
Orimsel  mountain  and  came  to  an  inn,  I  saw  there  for  the  first 
time  an  earthenware  stove.  The  moon  was  shining  on  the  tiles 
of  the  stove  and  I  thought  it  was  a  great  calf,  for  I  saw  only 
two  tiles,  and  these  I  took  for  its  eyes.  Next  morning  I  saw 
some  geese,  which  I  had  never  seen  before,  and  when  they 
hissed  at  me  I  thought  it  was  the  devil,  and  that  he  would  eat 
me  up;  and  I  fled  screaming.  At  Lucerne  I  saw  tiled  roofs  for 
the  first  time,  and  I  marvelled  at  the  red  roofs.  We  came  thence 
to  Zurich,  where  Paulus  waited  for  certain  companions,  who 
were  to  journey  with  us  toward  Meissen.  In  the  meantime  I 
went  begging  and  completely  provided  Paulus'  support,  for 
whenever  I  entered  an  inn  the  people  were  pleased  to  hear  me 
speak  the  dialect  of  Wallis  and  willingly  gave  to  me.  At  that 
time  there  was  a  certain  man  in  Zurich,  who  came  from  Wallis 
stock,  an  eccentric  man,  Karle  by  name,  who  was  generally 
thought  to  be  an  exorcist;  for  he  knew  at  all  times  what  was 
going  on  here  and  there.  He  was  well  known  to  the  Cardinal. 
This  Karle  came  to  me  (for  we  had  taken  lodgings  at  a  certain 
house),  and  said  that  if  I  would  let  him  give  me  a  certain  num- 
ber of  stripes  on  my  bare  back,  he  would  give  me  a  Zurich  piece 
of  six.  I  allowed  myself  to  be  persuaded,  and  he  seized  me 
fast,  laid  me  across  a  chair  and  lashed  me  well.  When  I  was 
done  smarting  he  begged  of  me  I  should  lend  him  the  money 
back  again;  he  wished  to  sup  with  a  lady,  and  was  in  need  of  a 
piece  of  six  to  pay  the  bill.  I  gave  him  the  money,  and  never 
saw  it  again. 

After  we  had  waited  from  eight  to  nine  weeks  for  our  com- 
panions, we  set  out  for  Meissen.  For  me  it  was  a  long  journey, 
for  I  was  not  accustomed  to  go  so  far,  and  moreover  I  had  to 
look  out  for  our  subsistence  on  the  way.  We  set  out  then, 
eight  or  nine  of  us  together,  three  little  schutzen,  the  rest  big 
bacchanten,  as  they  were  called,  among  whom  I  was  the  smallest 
and  the  youngest  schiitze  of  all.  When  I  did  not  travel  briskly 
enough,  my  cousin  Paulus  who  walked  behind,  pricked  up  my 
paces  with  a  switch  or  a  stick,  laid  upon  my  bare  legs;  for  I 
had  no  hose  and  my  shoes  were  worn  out. 


THOMAS  PLATTER.  223 

I  can  recollect  no  longer  all  that  happened  to  us  on  the 
way;  but  some  things  I  remember.  While  all  sorts  of  things 
were  being  discussed  as  we  marched  along,  the  bacchanten  re- 
marked to  each  other  that  it  was  the  custom  in  Meissen  and 
Silesia  to  permit  scholars  to  steal  geese  and  ducks  and  other 
things  to  eat,  and  that  nothing  would  be  done  to  them,  unless 
they  allowed  themselves  to  be  taken  by  the  one  to  whom  the 
property  belonged.  One  day,  not  far  from  a  village  we  saw  a 
great  flock  of  geese,  unaccompanied  by  the  goose-herd  (for  each 
village  has  its  especial  goose-herd),  who  was  quite  a  distance 
away  in  company  with  the  cow-herd.  Thereupon  I  asked  of 
my  companions,  the  schiitzen  :  "  When  shall  we  be  in  Meissen, 
where  I  may  kill  geese?"  They  said:  "We  are  there  now." 
Then  I  took  a  stone,  threw  at  a  goose  and  hit  it  on  the  leg. 
The  other  geese  flew  away;  the  lame  one,  however,  could  not 
follow.  Then  I  took  another  stone  and  hit  it  on  the  head,  so 
that  it  fell ;  for  I  had  learned  the  art  of  throwing  stones  while 
I  was  herding  goats,  so  that  no  herder  of  my  age  could  surpass 
me  ;  and  I  could  blow  the  herder's,  horn  and  leap  with  poles, 
for  I  had  exercised  these  arts  among  my  fellow  herders.  Then 
I  ran  up  to  the  goose,  seized  it  by  the  neck,  stuck  it  under  my 
coat  and  went  on  through  the  village.  But  the  goose-herd 
came  running  after  me  and  cried  :  ' '  The  boy  has  stolen  one  of 
my  geese  !"  I  and  my  fellow  schulzen  with  me  took  to  our 
heels,  and  the  goose's  feet  were  sticking  out  from  under  my 
jacket.  The  peasants  came  on  with  spears,  which  they  knew 
how  to  throw,  and  followed  closely  upon  us.  When  I  saw  that 
I  could  not  escape  with  the  goose,  I  let  it  drop.  Beyond  the 
village  I  sprang  aside  from  the  road  into  the  bushes,  but  two  of 
my  companions,  who  kept  to  the  road,  were  overhauled  by  the 
peasants.  They  fell  upon  their  knees  and  begged  for  mercy, 
saying  they  had  done  them  no  harm  ;  and  when  the  peasants 
saw  that  none  of  them  had  let  the  goose  drop,  they  went  back 
into  the  village,  taking  the  goose  with  them.  When  I  saw, 
however,  how  they  pursued  my  companions,  I  was  in  deep  dis- 
tress. I  said  to  myself :  "  Good  heavens,  I  surely  think  I  have 
not  said  my  prayers  to-day  !"  For  I  had  been  taught  to  say 
my  prayers  every  morning.  When  the  peasants  returned  to 


224  SOURCE- BOOK   OF  THE  GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

the  village  they  found  our  baechanten  at  the  inn  ;  for  they  had 
gone  on  ahead,  and  we  were  following.  The  peasants  were  of 
the  opinion  that  they  should  pay  for  the  goose  ;  it  was  a  matter 
of  two  pence.  I  do  not  know  whether  they  paid  or  not,  but 
when  they  came  back  to  us,  they  laughed  and  asked  us  how  we 
had  fared.  I  tried  to  excuse  myself  on  the  ground  that  it  was 
the  custom  of  the  country  ;  but  they  said,  the  time  for  that  had 
not  yet  come. 

On  another  occasion  a  murderer  came  upon  us  in  a  wood, 
eleven  miles  this  side  of  Nuremberg,  when  we  happened  to  be 
all  together.  He  sought  to  trifle  \\ith  our  bacchantcii,  in  order 
to  detain  us  until  his  companions  came  together.  We  had  with 
us  that  time  an  honest  fellow,  by  name  Antoni  Schallbetter 
from  Visperzehenden  in  Wallis,  who  feared  no  four  or  five,  as 
he  had  often  shown  in  Nuremberg  and  Munich,  and  in  many 
other  places.  He  threatened  the  murderer,  ordering  him  to 
get  out  of  the  way  ;  and  he  did  so.  It  was  so  late,  however, 
that  we  could  only  reach  the  nearest  village.  There  were  two 
inns,  but  few  houses  besides.  When  we  entered  one  of  the 
inns,  the  murderer  was  there  before  us,  and  still  others,  with- 
out doubt  his  companions.  We  would  not  stay  there,  and  went 
to  the  other  inn,  but  they  came  thither  also.  At  supper  time 
the  people  of  the  house  were  so  busy  that  they  would  give  us 
little  fellows  nothing  to  eat,  for  we  never  sat  at  table  with  our 
baccliaiitcn.  Nor  would  they  give  us  any  bed,  but  we  must  lie 
in  the  stables.  When,  however,  they  were  conducting  the  big 
fellows  to  bed,  Antoni  said  to  the  host:  "  Host,  it  seems  to  me 
you  have  rather  unusual  guests,  and  that  you  yourself  are  not 
much  better.  I  tell  you,  landlord,  you  had  better  put  us  where 
we  shall  be  safe,  or  we  will  kick  up  such  a  row  for  you,  that 
your  house  will  not  be  big  enough  to  hold  it."  For  the  rascals 
made  every  effort  to  engage  our  fellows  in  a  game  of  chess,  a 
thing  which  I  had  never  heard  of  before.  Then  they  were 
shown  to  bed,  and  I,  with  the  other  fellows,  were  sent  to  lie 
supperless  in  the  stables.  There  came  in  the  night  certain 
ones,  the  host  himself  with  them  very  likely,  to  the  chamber 
door,  and  sought  to  open  it.  Now  Antoni  had  set  a  screw 
against  the  lock  upon  the  inner  side  and  rolled  the  bed  against 


THOMAS  PLATTER.  225 

the  door  and  made  a  light ;  for  he  always  carried  candles  and 
flint  and  steel  with  him  ;  and  quickly  he  wakened  his  compan- 
ions. When  the  rascals  heard  this,  they  went  away.  Next 
morning  we  found  neither  host  nor  servant.  This  is  the  story 
they  told  to  us  boys.  We  were  all  rejoiced  that  nothing  had 
happened  to  us  in  the  stable.  After  we  had  gone  a  good  mile 
we  met  with  people,  who,  when  they  heard  where  we  had 
passed  the  night,  expressed  their  surprise  that  we  had  not  all 
been  murdered,  for  the  entire  village  has  the  reputation  of  being 
a  murderers'  den. 

About  a  quarter  of  a  mile  this  side  of  Naumburg  our  big  fel- 
lows remained  behind  in  a  village ;  for  when  they  wished  to 
feast,  they  sent  us  on  ahead.  There  were  five  of  us  Then 
rode  eight  men  out  of  the  open  country  upon  us  with  cross- 
bows spanned,  and  demanded  money,  and  turned  their  bolts 
upon  us  ;  for  as  yet  no  one  bore  firearms  on  horseback.  Then 
one  of  them  said  :  "  Give  us  money  !"  One  of  us,  who  was 
pretty  well  grown,  replied  :  "We  have  no  money  ;  we  are  poor 
scholars."  A  second  time  he  cried  :  "  Give  us  money  !"  But 
our  companion  said  :  ' '  We  have  no  money,  and  will  give  you 
no  money,  nor  do  we  owe  you  any."  Then  the  horseman 
drew  his  sword,  and  aimed  a  blow  at  his  head,  so  that  he  severed 
the  cord  that  held  his  pack.  Our  comrade  was  called  Johannes 
von  Schalen,  and  was  from  the  village  of  Visp.  Then  they 
rode  away  into  the  wood,  but  we  set  on  for  Naumburg.  Soon 
our  bacchanten  came  along  ;  they  had  not  seen  the  rascals.  We 
have  often  at  other  times  been  in  danger  from  horsemen  and 
murderers,  both  in  the  forest  of  Thuringia,  in  Franconia  and  in 
Poland. 

At  Naumburg  we  remained  several  weeks.  We  schiitzen 
went  into  the  city.  Some,  who  could  sing,  went  singing,  but  I 
went  begging.  We  attended  no  school,  and  the  others  would 
not  suffer  this,  but  threatened  to  force  us  to  go  to  school.  The 
school-master  also  ordered  our  bacchanten  to  go  to  school,  or 
they  would  be  arrested.  Antoni  sent  him  word  to  come  ahead; 
and  since  there  were  several  Swiss  there,  they  let  us  know  what 
day  they  were  coming,  so  that  we  should  not  be  taken  una- 
wares. 


226          SOURCE- BOOK  OF  THE  GERMAN  RENAISSANCE. 

Then  we  little  schiitzen  carried  stones  up  to  the  roof,  while 
Antoni  and  others  held  the  doors.  When  the  school-master 
came  with  his  whole  following  of  schiitzen  and  bacchanten,  we 
youngsters  threw  stones  upon  them,  so  that  they  gave  way. 
Thereupon  we  learned  that  we  had  been  complained  of  before 
the  city  authorities.  We  had  a  neighbor  who  was  about  to  give 
his  daughter  a  husband.  He  had  a  pen  full  of  fat  geese,  of 
which  we  took  three  by  night  and  retired  to  another  quarter  of 
the  town.  It  was  a  suburb,  but  without  walls,  as  indeed  was 
the  place  where  we  had  formerly  been.  There  the  Swiss  joined 
us,  and  they  feasted  together.  Then  our  fellows  went  to  Halle 
in  Saxony,  and  we  entered  the  school  at  St.  Ulrich's. 

There,  however,  our  bacchanten  used  us  so  shamefully  that 
several  of  us  conspired  with  my  cousin  Paulus,  with  the  inten- 
tion of  running  away  from  the  bacchanten.  In  this  manner  we 
came  to  Dresden  ;  but  there  were  no  good  schools  there,  and 
our  sleeping-rooms  were  so  full  of  vermin,  that  at  night  we 
could  hear  them  crawling  under  us  in  the  straw. 

Again  we  got  under  way  and  came  to  Breslau.  On  the  way 
we  suffered  much  from  hunger,  so  that  often  we  had  nothing 
to  eat  but  raw  onions  with  salt,  often  for  several  days  only 
roasted  acorns,  wild  apples  and  pears.  Many  a  night  we  lay 
under  the  open  sky,  when  no  one  would  suffer  us  to  enter  his 
house,  however  politely  we  begged  for  lodging ;  sometimes 
they  set  the  dogs  upon  us.  In  Breslau,  however,  everything 
was  abundant ;  so  cheap,  indeed,  that  the  poor  scholars  overate 
and  often  fell  into  serious  illness.  At  first  we  went  to  the  school 
in  the  cathedral  of  the  Holy  Cross.  When,  however,  we  learned 
that  there  were  some  Swiss  in  the  upper  parish  of  St.  Elizabeth, 
we  went  thither.  There  were  two  from  Bremgarten,  two  from 
Mellingen  and  others,  and  many  Swabians  as  well ;  there  was 
no  distinction  made  between  Swabians  and  Swiss.  We  ad- 
dressed each  other  as  compatriots  and  protected  each  other. 

The  city  of  Breslau  has  seven  parishes,  and  each  parish  has 
a  separate  school.  No  scholar  is  permitted  to  sing  in  another 
parish  than  his  own,  or  they  cry  Ad  idem  !  ad  idem  !  and  the 
schiitzen  rush  together  and  fight  fiercely.  There  are  said  to 
have  been  several  thousand  bacchanten  and  schiitzen  in  the  city 


THOMAS  PLATTER.  227 

at  one  time,  all  of  whom  were  supported  with  alms  ;  some  had 
been  there  from  twenty  to  thirty  years  and  even  longer,  and 
they  had  their  schiitzen,  who  begged  for  them.  I  have  often  of 
an  evening  carried  five  or  six  loads  to  my  bacchanten  at  the 
school  were  they  dwelt.  People  gave  very  willingly  to  me,  be- 
cause I  was  small  and  a  Swiss  ;  for  they  were  very  fond  of  the 
Swiss.  There  was  great  sympathy  for  the  Swiss,  because  at 
this  time  they  had  fared  ill  in  the  battle  of  Milan,*  wherefore 
it  was  the  custom  to  say  "The  Swiss  have  lost  their  good 
luck  ;"  for  previously  it  was  the  belief  that  they  were  well  nigh 
insuperable. 

One  day  at  the  market-place  I  met  two  gentlemen  or  squires, 
and  later  on  I  learned  that  one  of  these  was  named  Benzenauer 
and  the  other  Fugger.  As  they  were  walking  by  I  begged  for 
alms,  as  was  the  custom  with  the  poor  scholars.  The  Fugger 
said  to  me,  "Whence  come  you,"  and  when  he  heard  that  I 
was  Swiss,  he  spoke  aside  with  Benzenauer  and  then  said  to  me: 
"  If  you  are  really  Swiss,  I  will  adopt  you  and  sign  the  papers 
before  the  authorities  here  in  Breslau  ;  but  you  must  bind  your- 
self to  remain  with  me  all  your  life  long,  and  to  attend  me 
wherever  I  may  be."  I  replied:  "I  have  been  entrusted  to 
the  care  of  a  certain  person  from  home,  and  I  will  speak  to  him 
about  it."  When,  however,  I  mentioned  the  matter  to  my 
cousin  Paulus,  he  said  :  "I  have  brought  you  from  home  and 
it  is  my  intention  to  turn  you  over  again  to  your  people  ;  what 
they  tell  you  to  do,  that  you  can  do. "  So  I  declined  the  Fug- 
ger's  offer,  but  as  often  as  I  went  to  his  house  his  people  did 
not  permit  me  to  come  away  empty-handed. 

There  I  remained  a  long  time.  One  winter  I  was  sick  three 
times,  so  that  I  had  to  be  taken  to  the  hospital.  The  scholars 
have  their  special  hospital  and  their  own  physician.  The  city 
gives  sixteen  heller  a  week  for  each  scholar,  and  this  answers 
very  nicely.  They  have  good  care  and  good  beds  too,  but 
there  are  so  many  insects  that  I  preferred  to  lie  in  the  common 
room,  or,  as  many  did,  on  the  stove.  The  scholars  and  bac- 
chanten, indeed  the  ordinary  men,  in  many  cases  are  so  full  ol 

*  Marignano,  September,  1515. 


228  SOURCE-BOOK  OF  THE  GERMAN  RENAISSANCE. 

vermin  that  it  is  beyond  belief.  Many  a  time,  especially  in 
summer  time,  I  went  out  to  the  Oder,  which  flows  by  the  city, 
washed  my  shirt  and  hung  it  up  on  a  bush  to  dry  ;  meanwhile 
I  picked  the  vermin  from  my  coat,  dug  a  hole  in  the  ground, 
threw  a  handful  of  lice  into  it,  covered  them  up  with  earth  and 
set  a  cross  upon  the  place.  In  the  winter  the  schiitzen  lay  upon 
the  stove  in  the  school ;  the  bacchanten,  however,  slept  in  their 
cells,  of  which  there  were  several  hundred  at  St.  Elizabeth  ;  in 
summer,  however,  when  the  weather  was  warm,  we  slept  in  the 
churchyard,  collecting  the  grass,  which  in  summer  they  spread 
in  front  of  the  houses  in  the  fine  streets  on  Sunday.  This  we 
carried  to  the  churchyard,  heaped  it  together  in  a  corner,  and 
there  we  lay  like  pigs  in  straw  ;  but  when  it  rained,  we  ran  into 
the  school,  and  during  the  thunder-showers  we  sang  responses 
and  other  offices  with  the  chanter  almost  the  whole  night 
through.  Once  in  a  while  after  supper  in  summer  we  went  beg- 
ging in  the  beer-houses.  The  drunken  Polacks  gave  us  so 
much  beer  that  I  often  unwittingly  became  drunk,  so  that  I 
could  not  get  back  to  school,  although  I  was  only  a  stone's 
throw  away.  On  the  whole  there  was  enough  to  eat  in  Breslau, 
but  not  much  studying. 

In  the  school  at  St.  Elizabeth  nine  bachelors  lectured  at  the 
same  time  in  one  room  ;  of  Greek  there  was  no  trace  anywhere 
in  that  part  of  the  country  ;  moreover,  no  one  had  any  printed 
books,  except  the  teacher,  who  had  a  printed  Terence.  What- 
ever was  presented  had  to  be  dictated  in  the  first  place,  then 
analyzed,  then  construed,  and  at  length  expounded;  so  that 
the  bacchanten  had  loads  of  trash  to  carry  when  they  went  home. 

Thence  eight  of  us  went  on  to  Dresden.  We  suffered  greatly 
from  hunger  on  the  way.  One  day  we  determined  to  divide 
our  forces ;  certain  ones  should  go  after  geese,  others  after 
turnips  and  .onions;  one  should  bring  a  pot,  and  we  little  ones 
were  to  go  to  the  town  of  Neumarkt,  which  lay  not  far  away 
upon  our  road,  and  procure  bread  and  salt.  At  evening  we 
were  to  come  together  outside  the  town,  and  cook  whatever  we 
had  collected.  About  a  rifle-shot  distance  from  the  town  was 
a  spring,  where  we  intended  to  spend  the  night.  When  the 
people  in  the  town  saw  the  fire,  however,  they  came  out,  but 


THOMAS   PLATTER.  22Q 

did  not  find  us  there  ;  we  took  to  our  heels  behind  a  ridge  of 
ground  toward  a  pond  in  the  woods.  The  big  fellows  piled  up 
bushes  and  made  a  hut ;  some  of  us  plucked  the  geese,  of  which 
we  had  two,  while  others  prepared  the  turnips  for  the  pot,  and 
put  therein  the  heads  and  feet  and  entrails  of  the  geese  ;  still 
others  made  two  wooden  spits  and  began  to  roast  the  geese, 
and  as  soon  as  they  were  a  little  reddened  with  the  heat  we 
took  them  from  the  spit  and  ate  them  ;  and  the  turnips  as  well. 
In  the  night  we  heard  a  noise  ;  near-by  was  a  fish-pond  ;  dur- 
ing the  day  the  water  had  been  drained  off,  and  the  fish  were 
leaping  in  the  mud.  We  gathered  up  the  fish,  as  many  as  we 
could  carry  in  a  shirt  fastened  to  a  staff,  and  went  hence  to  a 
village.  There  we  gave  one  fish  to  a  peasant,  on  condition  that 
he  should  cook  the  others  in  beer  for  us. 

When  finally  we  came  to  Dresden,  the  schoolmaster  and  our 
bacchanten  sent  some  of  us  boys  forth  to  look  about  for  geese. 
We  agreed  that  I  should  throw  at  the  geese,  while  the  others 
were  to  get  them  and  carry  them  away.  After  we  had  found 
a  flock  of  geese,  and  they  had  caught  sight  of  us,  they  flew 
away  ;  then  I  threw  a  little  club  which  I  had  with  me  up  under 
them  as  they  flew,  and  struck  one  of  them,  so  that  it  fell  to  the 
ground.  But  my  companions  saw  the  goose-herd  and  dared 
not  run  for  it,  although  they  had  considerable  the  start  of  the 
herder.  Then  the  other  geese  flew  down  and  surrounded  the 
wounded  goose  and  gabbled  as  though  they  were  speaking  to 
it ;  and  it  stood  up  again  and  went  away  with  the  others.  I 
was  vexed  with  my  comrades,  that  they  had  not  carried  out 
their  promises ;  but  we  did  better  after  that,  for  we  brought 
home  two  geese.  These  the  bacchanten  ate  with  the  schoolmaster 
at  a  farewell  feast.  Thence  we  set  out  for  Nuremberg  and 
further  on  to  Munich. 

On  the  way,  not  far  from  Dresden,  it  happened  that  I  went 
begging  into  a  village  and  came  up  to  a  peasant's  house.  The 
peasant  asked  me  who  I  was  ;  and  when  he  heard  that  I  was 
a  Swiss,  he  asked  if  I  had  not  comrades  who  were  also  Swiss. 
I  said  :  "  My  comrades  are  waiting  for  me  outside  the  village." 
Then  he  answered  :  ' '  Tell  them  to  come  !' '  He  prepared  a  good 
meal  for  us  and  gave  us  plenty  of  beer.  When  we  were  quite 


230  SOURCE-BOOK  OF  THE  GERMAN  RENAISSANCE. 

comfortable  and  the  peasant  with  us,  he  said  to  his  mother,  who 
lay  on  the  bed  in  the  common  room  ;  ' '  Mother,  I  have  heard 
you  say,  you  wanted  very  much  to  see  a  Swiss  before  you  died; 
now  here  you  see  several  of  them  ;  for  I  have  invited  them  on 
your  account."  Then  the  mother  raised  herself,  thanked  her 
son  for  the  guests  and  said  :  "I  have  heard  so  many  good 
things  said  about  Swiss,  that  I  was  very  anxious  to  see  one.  It 
seems  to  me  I  shall  now  die  that  much  easier  ;  therefore,  make 
merry  !"  and  she  lay  down  again.  We  thanked  the  peasant 
and  departed. 

As  we  came  near  Munich  it  was  too  late  to  see  the  city,  so  we 
had  to  spend  the  night  in  the  lazaretto.  When  on  the  follow- 
ing morning  we  came  to  the  city  gate,  they  would  not  admit 
us ;  we  had,  however,  an  acquaintance  in  the  city,  whom  we 
gave  as  reference.  My  cousin  Paulus,  who  had  been  in  Munich 
before,  was  permitted  to  look  this  man  up,  with  whom  he  had 
lodged  on  the  occasion  of  his  former  visit.  He  came  and  went 
security  for  us,  and  then  they  let  us  in.  Paulus  and  I  went  to 
the  house  of  a  soap-boiler,  named  Hans  Schrall,  who  had  taken 
his  master's  degree  at  Vienna,  but  was  an  enemy  to  priestcraft. 
He  had  married  a  beautiful  girl,  with  whom  he  came,  many 
years  later,  to  Basel,  where  he  worked  at  his  trade  ;  and  many 
people  here  know  him.  I  helped  this  master  boil  soap  more 
than  I  went  to  school ;  went  with  him  to  the  villages,  buying 
ashes.  Paulus,  however,  went  to  school  in  the  parish  of  Our 
Lady  and  so  did  I,  but  rarely,  merely  because  I  had  to  sing  for 
bread  through  the  streets  and  support  my  bacchant,  Paulus. 
The  woman  of  the  house  was  very  fond  of  me ;  she  had  an  old, 
blind,  black  dog,  and  it  was  my  task  to  feed  him,  make  his  bed 
and  lead  him  into  the  court.  She  always  said  :  "  Tommy,  take 
the  best  care  of  my  doggy  ;  you  won't  be  any  the  worse  for 
it. ' '  When  we  had  been  there  a  time,  Paulus  began  to  get  too 
friendly  with  the  maid.  This  the  master  would  not  permit. 
Then  Paulus  determined  that  we  should  go  home,  for  we  had 
not  been  at  home  in  five  years.  So  homeward  we  turned  to- 
ward Wallis.  My  friends  there  could  scarcely  understand  me; 
they  said :  ' '  Our  Tommy  speaks  so  strangely  that  scarcely 
anybody  can  understand  him;"  for  I  was  young  then,  and  had 


THOMAS  PLATTER.  23! 

learned  a  little  of  the  speech  of  every  place  where  I  had  stopped 
a  while.  In  the  meanwhile  my  mother  had  taken  another  hus- 
band, for  Heinzman  am  Grund  was  dead  ;  at  the  end  of  her 
period  of  mourning  she  had  married  Thomas  am  Garstern.  On 
this  account  I  could  not  be  with  her  much,  but  spent  most  of 
my  time  with  my  cousins,  especially  with  my  cousin  Simon 
Summermatter  and  my  cousin  Fransy. 

A  little  later  we  set  out  again  and  came  to  Ulm.  Paulus 
took  still  another  boy  with  him,  named  Hildebrand  Kalbermat- 
ter,  a  parson's  son  ;  he  too  was  very  young.  They  gave  him 
some  cloth,  such  as  was  made  in  the  country,  enough  for  a  coat. 
When  we  came  to  Ulm,  Paulus  had  me  go  about  with  the 
cloth  and  solicit  the  money  for  making  it  up.  In  this  way  I 
got  a  good  deal  of  money,  for  I  was  an  expert  at  flattery  and 
begging,  and  for  this  reason  the  bacchanten  had  used  me  for  this 
purpose  from  the  beginning,  and  would  not  let  me  go  to  school, 
nor  even  learn  to  read.  There  at  Ulm  I  seldom  went  to  school, 
and  at  first  when  I  ought  to  have  been  going,  I  went 
about  with  the  cloth,  and  suffered  greatly  from  hunger ;  for 
everything  that  I  obtained  I  brought  home  to  the  bacchanten. 
I  dared  not  eat  a  morsel,  for  I  feared  a  beating.  Paulus  had 
associated  with  him  another  bacchant,  Achatius  by  name,  a 
Mainzer  by  birth.  My  comrade  and  I  had  to  support  them 
with  begging,  but  Hildebrand  ate  almost  everything.  There- 
fore they  used  to  follow  him  through  the  streets,  in  order  to 
catch  him  eating,  or  they  made  him  rinse  his  mouth  with  water 
and  spit  it  out  into  a  dish,  so  that  they  could  see  if  he  had  eaten 
anything.  Then  they  threw  him  upon  a  bed,  placed  a  pillow 
upon  his  head,  so  that  he  could  not  cry  out,  and  they  beat  him, 
these  two  bacchanten,  until  they  could  beat  him  no  longer. 
Wherefore  I  was  afraid  and  brought  everything  home.  Often 
they  had  so  much  bread  that  it  moulded  ;  then  they  cut  off  the 
mouldy  part  and  gave  it  to  us  to  eat.  I  have  often  suffered 
severely  from  hunger,  and  from  cold  as  well,  for  I  had  to  go 
about  in  the  darkness  until  midnight  and  sing  for  bread. 

I  must  not  forget  to  relate  that  there  was  a  kind  widow  liv- 
ing at  Ulm,  who  had  two  unmarried  daughters  and  one  son, 
Paulus  Reling,  who  was  also  unmarried.  Often  in  winter  the 


232  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   GERMAN  RENAISSANCE. 

widow  wrapped  my  feet  in  a  warm  piece  of  fur,  which  she  put 
behind  the  stove,  so  that  she  could  warm  my  feet  when  I  came. 
She  gave  me  then  a  dish  of  porridge  and  sent  me  home.  I  have 
been  so  hungry  that  I  have  driven  the  dogs  from  bones  and 
gnawed  at  them,  and  I  have  sought  and  eaten  out  of  the 
garbage. 

Thence  we  went  again  to  Munich.  There  I  was  obliged 
again  to  beg  for  money  to  make  up  the  cloth,  which,  however, 
was  not  mine.  A  year  later  we  returned  to  Ulm,  with  the  in- 
tention of  turning  again  toward  home.  I  brought  the  cloth 
back  with  me,  and  begged  again  for  the  price  of  making.  I 
distinctly  remember  that  certain  persons  said  to  me :  ' '  Good 
heavens,  is  that  coat  not  made  yet  ?  I  guess  you  are  playing 
us  a  trick."  So  we  went  away.  I  know  not  what  became  of 
the  cloth,  or  whether  the  coat  has  been  made  or  not.  We  came 
home,  however,  and  went  again  to  Munich. 

On  the  Sunday  of  our  arrival  the  bacchanten  found  lodgings, 
but  we  three  little  schiitzen  were  not  so  fortunate.  Toward 
night  we  sought  to  go  into  the  enclosure,  that  is  to  say  the 
corn-market,  in  order  to  lie  upon  the  sacks.  Several  women 
were  sitting  there  near  the  salt-house,  and  asked  where  we 
were  going.  When  they  learned  that  we  had  no  lodgings  and 
that  we  were  Swiss,  one  of  them,  a  butcher  woman,  said  to  her 
maid  :  ' '  Set  the  pot  with  what  soup  and  meat  is  left  over  the 
fire.  They  must  stop  with  me  to-night,  for  I  am  fond  of  the 
Swiss.  I  once  served  at  a  tavern  in  Innsbruck,  when  the  Em- 
peror Maximilian  was  holding  his  court  there.  The  Swiss  had 
much  to  do  with  him  at  that  time.  They  were  so  kind  to  me 
that  I  shall  be  fond  of  them  so  long  as  I  live."  She  gave  us 
enough  to  eat  and  to  drink,  and  lodged  us  well.  Next  morn- 
ing she  said  to  us  :  "If  one  of  you  wishes  to  stay  with  me,  I 
will  give  him  his  lodgings  and  his  meat  and  drink."  We  were 
all  willing,  and  asked  which  one  she  wanted  ;  and  as  she  looked 
us  over,  I  seemed  to  her  a  little  livelier  than  the  others.  So 
she  took  me,  and  I  had  nothing  to  do  but  hand  her  her  beer, 
bring  hides  and  meat  from  the  shambles,  and  now  and  then  ac- 
company her  to  the  field  ;  but  besides  this  I  had  to  support  my 
bacchant.  That  displeased  the  woman  and  she  said  to  me : 


THOMAS   PLATTER.  233 

"  Good  heavens,  let  that  bacchant  go,  and  stick  to  me!  You 
do  not  need  to  beg. ' '  For  a  week  I  went  neither  to  my  bacchant 
nor  to  school.  Then  came  my  bacchant  and  knocked  at  the 
door  of  the  butcher- woman's  house.  She  said  to  me  :  "Your 
bacchant  is  there.  Say  that  you  are  sick ;"  and  she  let  him  in. 
She  said  to  him  :  "  You  are  a  pretty  gentlemen,  in  truth  ;  and 
you  want  to  see,  do  you,  what  Thomas  is  doing  ?  Well  he  has 
been  sick,  and  is  so  still."  Then  he  said:  "I  am  sorry, 
youngster.  When  you  can  go  out  again,  come  to  me."  Some 
time  after  I  went  one  Sunday  to  vespers,  and  after  vespers  he 
said  to  me  :  "  Here,  you  schutze,  you  don't  mean  to  come  to 
me  !  I  will  give  you  a  good  drubbing."  I  made  up  my  mind, 
however,  that  he  should  not  beat  me  any  more,  and  I  concluded 
to  run  away.  On  Monday  I  said  to  the  butcher- woman  ;  '  'I  think 
I  will  go  to  school  and  then  go  and  wash  my  shirt. ' '  I  dared 
not  say  what  I  had  in  mind,  for  I  feared  that  she  might  talk  me 
out  of  it.  I  set  out  for  Munich  with  a  heavy  heart,  partly  be- 
cause I  was  running  away  from  my  cousin,  with  whom  I  had 
travelled  so  far,  but  who  was  so  harsh  and  merciless  with  me. 
Then  too,  I  was  sorry  to  leave  the  butcher- woman,  who  had 
been  so  kind  toward  me.  I  crossed  the  river  Isar  ;  for  I  feared 
if  I  went  to  Switzerland,  that  Paulus  would  follow  me.  He  had 
often  threatened  me  and  others,  that  if  any  one  should  run 
away  from  him,  he  would  pursue  him,  and  when  he  caught  him 
he  would  break  every  bone  in  his  body. 

Across  the  Isar  is  a  hill.  There  I  sat  down,  gazed  at  the  city 
and  wept  softly  to  myself,  that  I  had  no  longer  any  one  to  take 
me  up.  My  intention  was  to  go  toward  Salzburg  or  toward 
Vienna  in  Austria.  While  I  sat  there  a  peasant  came  along 
with  a  wagon,  carrying  salt  to  Munich.  He  was  already  drunk, 
although  the  sun  had  just  risen.  I  begged  of  him  to  let  me 
ride,  and  he  let  me  go  with  him,  until  he  unhitched  to  feed. 
While  this  was  going  on  I  begged  in  the  village  ;  and  not  far 
beyond  the  village  I  waited  for  him  and,  while  waiting,  fell 
asleep.  When  I  awoke,  I  wept  bitterly,  for  I  thought  the 
peasant  had  gone  along,  and  I  grieved  as  though  I  had  lost  a 
father ;  but  soon  he  came  along,  now  thoroughly  befuddled. 
He  told  me  to  mount  again  and  asked  me  where  I  wanted  to 


234  SOURCE-BOOK   OF  THE   GERMAN   RENAISSANCE. 

go.  I  said  :  "  To  Salzburg  ;"  and  when  evening  came  he  left 
the  highway  and  said:  "Jump  down  :  there  is  the  road  to 
Salzburg."  We  had  travelled  eight  miles  during  the  day. 

I  came  to  a  village,  and  when  I  arose  the  next  morning  such 
a  frost  had  fallen  that  it  was  like  snow,  and  I  had  no  shoes, 
only  tattered  stockings ;  no  cap,  only  a  jacket  without  folds. 
In  this  guise  I  went  on  to  Passau,  and  from  there  it  was  my 
intention  to  go  to  Vienna  by  the  Danube.  When  I  came  to 
Passau  they  would  not  let  me  in  Then  I  determined  to  go  to 
Switzerland,  and  asked  the  watchman  at  the  city  gate  which 
was  the  nearest  way.  He  said:  "Byway  of  Munich;"  but 
when  I  replied  :  "  I  do  not  wish  to  go  by  the  way  of  Munich . 
I  had  rather  make  a  circuit  of  ten  miles  or  even  further, ' '  he 
pointed  out  the  way  by  Freisingen.  There  is  a  high  school, 
and  there  I  found  Swiss,  who  asked  me  whence  I  came.  But 
only  two  or  three  days  passed  before  Paulus  came  with  a  hal- 
berd. The  schiitze  said  to  me:  "  Your  bacchant  from  Munich 
is  here  looking  for  you."  Upon  this  I  ran  forth  from  the  city 
gate,  as  though  he  were  upon  my  heels,  and  made  for  Ulm. 

I  went  to  my  saddler's  wife,  who  formerly  had  warmed  my 
feet  in  the  rug.  She  took  me  into  her  house,  and  let  me  tend 
the  turnips  in  the  field.  This  I  did,  and  went  no  more  to 
school.  Some  weeks  later  a  certain  one,  who  had  been  Paulus' 
comrade,  came  to  me  and  said  :  "Your  cousin  Paulus  is  here 
and  looking  for  you."  He  had  followed  me  for  eighteen  miles, 
because  he  had  indeed  lost  a  good  thing  in  me.  I  had  supported 
him  for  years.  When  I  heard  this,  although  it  was  night,  I  ran 
out  through  the  city  gate  toward  Constance,  but  grieved  to 
myself,  for  it  hurt  me  sore  that  I  must  leave  my  dear  mistress. 
When  I  was  nearly  at  Morsburg  I  ran  across  a  stone-mason 
from  Thurgau.  We  met  a  young  peasant,  and  the  stone-mason 
said  to  me  ;  ' '  We  must  get  some  money  out  of  this  peasant. ' ' 
To  him  he  said  .  "  Here,  peasant,  hand  out  your  money,  or  the 
devil  fly  away  with  you  !"  The  peasant  was  frightened  and  I 
was  sore  afraid,  and  wished  I  was  somewhere  else.  The 
peasant  began  to  pull  out  his  purse,  but  the  stone-mason  said  : 
"  That's  all  !  I  was  just  joking  with  you." 

Thus  I  came  across  the  lake  to  Constance.     As  I  was  crossing 


THOMAS  PLATTER.  235 

the  bridge  I  saw  some  Swiss  peasants  in  their  white  jackets, 
and  O  L/ord,  how  glad  I  was  !  I  thought  I  was  in  the  king- 
dom of  Heaven.  I  came  to  Zurich,  and  found  there  some  big 
bacchanten  from  Wallis.  I  offered  to  beg  for  them  on  condition 
that  they  should  teach  me  ;  and  they  did  so,  as  the  others  had 
done.  At  that  time  the  Cardinal  von  Sitten  was  in  Zurich, 
seeking  to  enroll  citizens  of  Zurich  to  accompany  him  to  the 
Pope's  dominions;  but  it  had  rather  to  do  with  Milan,  as  the 
sequel  proved  some  months  later.  Paulus  sent  his  schutze, 
Hildebrand,  from  Munich,  to  tell  me  I  should  come  back  to 
him  ;  that  he  would  forgive  me.  I  did  not  care  to  do  so,  and 
remained  in  Zurich,  but  not  to  study. 


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